Oblivion
by missdromeda
Summary: Everything went wrong when Easton Greengrass was sorted into Slytherin. Easton wasn't ambitious. Easton wasn't cunning. Easton lacked any sense of self-preservation in every meaning there was (she came close to killing herself during Potions on numerous occasions). Easton Greengrass wasn't many things, and, oh dear Merlin, she most definitely wasn't a Slytherin.
1. -00-

Easton Greengrass wasn't ambitious. Easton Greengrass wasn't cunning. Easton Greengrass lacked any sense of self-preservation in every meaning there was (she came close to killing herself during Potions on numerous occasions).

See, Easton Greengrass wasn't many things, much to her parents' dislike, and, oh dear Merlin, she most definitely wasn't a Slytherin. However, funnily enough, this little fact didn't prevent the Sorting Hat from putting her in the House that embodied everything Easton Greengrass wasn't, and everything her family hoped she would eventually become. Which she didn't.

She still couldn't wrap her mind around how it came to be, really. A twist of fate? A seek joke? Sodding karma finally making her pay for that one time she almost burned her sister's hair off when they were seven?

Even six years later, six years of hours spent thinking of where she went wrong in life to deserve this, Easton Greengrass still hadn't an answer. And so she learned to live with it.

Sort of.

 **DISCLAIMER:** I own nothing, except for the characters created by me and me only. Everything else belongs to J.K Rowling.

 **A/N:** Hello there, thank you for stopping by and reading this story! Anyways, I won't take much of your time, just wanted to say that comments and votes will be grrrrreatly (horribly bad Scottish accent intended) appreciated and that I love each and every one of you ❤

Without further ado, welcome to Easton's world.

Kind of.


	2. John Travolta is a manwhore

Huge thanks to my wonderful beta _reynardinepttr_!

KING'S CROSS STATION WAS PACKED with people that morning, and Easton wasn't particularly enjoying the crowd. To be completely honest, she was one step away from yelling at the group of people in front of her, who were without a single doubt muggles and who had seemingly made it their personal mission to walk as slowly as bloody possible.

But Easton couldn't really yell at them; no, these days Easton Greengrass was all about positivity and love-spreading like she'd read about in one of the magazines Penelope'd sent her that summer.

So instead of verbally traumatising the irritating twats, she took a very, very deep breath, closed her eyes for a couple of seconds and emptied her lungs just like the article had instructed.

But Easton couldn't say it worked.

"Excuse me," she seethed whilst fighting her way through the crowd with a huge trunk behind her and a fat cat under her right arm. The cat, whose name was Fawlty, grumbled in annoyance when somebody bumped into Easton's side. "Hey, watch it!" she yelled after the stranger, but he was long gone. "What a bloody gentleman".

Finally Easton, the trunk, and the grumpy Fawlty all made it to Platform 9 3/4 safe and sound, which couldn't be said for all the people she'd basically run over with her luggage.

Easton stopped in front of the brick wall and let out a loud sigh—that was the last time she'd ever see it, the last time she'd get on the magical Hogwarts Express and spend the whole year at the wizarding boarding school with a bunch of hormonal teenagers. And Merlin, was she ready to get it over with.

"But mum, what if I get sorted into Slytherin?" Easton heard a little first year whimper, and she couldn't help but smile at the irony—these words were the first she'd said and the last she'd hear at the sodding brick wall.

"Oh, you won't, darling! Your father, your brother and I—we all went to Ravenclaw, and so will you! Just wait and see, Addy, it's going to be just fine!"

 _Yeah, right._

With that bitter thought, Easton went through the wall, at last, only to be greeted by more fuss and noise.

"Easton!" called the horrifically familiar voice of her dear mother who was already approaching with the look on her face that Easton knew all too well—wrath and...yes, that was about it. "Where on earth were you? Your sister and I have been looking everywhere—"

"Calm down now, mother, I stopped by a kiosk to buy something to read", Easton explained with as much calmness as she could muster.

"Should your father learn of your pastimes, Easton, you—"

"Then we'd better make sure he doesn't, shan't we, mother?" she looked at Mrs. Ophelia Greengrass, née Rosier, with cold determination in her clear blue eyes until the latter gave up and switched her attention to something else.

"Why didn't you leave that wretched cat at home?" She crinkled her perfect little nose at the ginger ball of fur in Easton's arms, which made her hold on to Fawlty even tighter. "Salazar knows it's way too old for this. We could've got you a new one—"

"I'm perfectly content with the old grumpy cat that I have, mother, but thank you for the concern".

"Hurry up now, Easton, we're going to be late!" Oh, yes, her sister was there too. How in the world could she have forgotten about that what with Josefine's "sparkly" personality and a yellow leather jacket to match.

Josefine Greengrass was a year behind her older sister and yet somehow managed to actually have a social life, which would explain her exasperating eagerness to get on the train and snog the appalling jock that the younger Greengrass so dearly called a boyfriend.

"Alright, Easton", Ophelia started with the tone that forebode a lengthy monologue, "This is your last year at Hogwarts, which means this is the year you are to finally take your N.E. . Remember what your father and I talked to you about, will you, dear? We..."

"You hope I don't fail and embarrass the whole Greengrass family, you hope I'll do better than Evan, which I certainly won't, seeing as he's a sodding Prefect, a golden member of the bloody Slug Club and the Quidditch captain, mother".

"Easton, language!"

"What's another disappointment to you?" Easton deadpanned and gripped her bag tightly, fully prepared to say her goodbyes and board the train. "Righty, mother dearest, I shall be off".

"Oh, Easton, please write to father and me, we—"

Easton interrupted her mother for what must've been a hundredth time that morning, "I sure will, now goodbye!"

"Goodbye, darling! Oh, Josie, take off that dreadful leather jack—oh, never mind. I'll be waiting for your letters, young ladies!" Mrs. Greengrass shouted, but her pleas just dissolved into the cacophony of station sounds and endless farewell talk, while both Easton and Josie were making their way through the train in search of a compartment.

"I'm sitting with Trevor," Josie stated, walking in front of her older sister. The seemingly innocent remark meant that Easton was certainly not welcome to join them.

"Great, tell him I said hi."

Leaving Josefine to walk off to her boyfriend's compartment, Easton stopped at the one in the middle and, sliding the door open, let out an involuntary groan, "I hate everything". She slumped into the seat across from a bushy-haired blond who was deeply engrossed in a magazine.

"I've missed your positivity, my bright ray of sunshine you." Her voice practically dripped with sarcasm.

Easton gently placed sweet Fawlty on the seat beside her and looked up at her friend.

"What are you reading?" she asked, taking off the cardigan which left her in a thin yellow t-shirt that, ironically enough, said "Good day, Sunshine".

"Oh, the 'Sun'. Listen, you won't believe what that Travolta guy...Oh. My. God," the blond was now staring at her friend in pure shock, the magazine completely forgotten, "Have you...have you dyed your bloody hair?!

Easton smiled mischievously.

"D'you like it?" she ruffled her now almost red locks and styled them into a weird hairdo that instantly fell apart without the help of her hands.

Penelope Abbott, Easton's best and probably only friend, was at a complete loss for words, staring at the redhead in what was a mix of confusion and total amazement.

"Are you trying to seduce Potter now, little Tony? What about Black, huh?" she snorted, "Never coloured you to be such a shameless hussy", she could barely hold back her laughter.

Easton smacked her friend with the cardigan.

"Oh, my precious Lily Flower," Penelope singsonged in her best James Potter impression, "will you go to Hogsmeade with me? Oh, will you marry me, Lily?" Penny was practically screaming at this point, and Easton smacked her harder, though dying of laughter herself.

"You look feisty, though, Tony," Penelope sniggered, recovering from the fit of laughter.

"Oh, sod off," Easton smiled and suddenly ripped the magazine away from her friend's hands to scan the front page, "Oh, Merlin, he did what?!"

"Yep, told ya'," Penelope said with a knowing look, "that sodding manwhore, m'I right?"

And so began the fateful train ride into what was their last year at Hogwarts.


	3. Greengrass s'alright

WHEN OPHELIA GREENGRASS SAW her daughter's bright red hair, she almost had a fit, and and Easton would've lied had she said that it wasn't the reaction she'd initially anticipated, or rather gone for.

Her father, on the other hand, only gave Easton a probing once-over, looked her straight in the eyes, pursed his thin lips in a highly unimpressed manner and then left without saying another word, leaving his wife to deal with the rebellious teenager herself. And deal she did, though unsuccessfully.

Easton was by far the epitome of what one would call a troubled teen. The defiance itself had began on her very first day at Hogwarts when the bloody ancient Hat had placed the poor Hufflepuff-at-heart into the House of snakes.

Her family was ecstatic, of course; had she been sorted anywhere other than the sacred alma mater of her ancestors, Easton would've been shunned even more than she was now.

It should be known that the older Greengrass daughter was quite used to living among snakes; however, no matter how hard she tried, (which she didn't at all, to be quite candid), she could never fit in. It didn't sadden her, really; no, Easton was actually rather happy, and the thought of being sorted into a House that would finally help her embrace her personality, made Easton giddy with eagerness.

But alas, life put a huge damper on that one dream. And then on many others.

"I hate green," Easton grumbled, straightening her Slytherin robes. The burning red colour of her short hair looked even brighter now in contrast with the cold green and silver, and Easton hated it. She hated her hair, hated her stupid tie and hated the sodding bag that she couldn't get off the upper shelf.

"What're you gonna do with the robes after we graduate?" Penny asked nonchalantly, putting on the yellow and black Hufflepuff tie. "Mary says she'll keep 'em for her future love child with Alex." Suddenly she seemed deep in thought. "D'you think they've already?..."

Easton snorted, "Have you seen the way he looks at her? That man has either seen her naked or has a hell of an imagination. As for me, I'll go into the woods and burn the sodding hell out of them robes, that's what," she stated fiercely, her face now matching the hair, that hard she was pulling on the bloody bag, "and then, dear Penelope, I'll go running around the pyre, absolutely naked and laughing and laughing...what're you staring at?" Easton huffed breathlessly noticing the strange look on her best friend's face.

"D'you maybe need...em...help with that?"

The silence that instantly set in the compartment was so palpable you could throw a Bludger at it and it would bounce right into your face and knock you down. To be honest, Easton would've preferred that instead of having to face Remus Lupin, who stood awkwardly in the door of their compartment, probably regretting his decision to intervene.

Easton was about to say that yes, of course she'd love some help and then nicely thank Remus for being a sweetheart that he was, but suddenly there was a loud thump, and Easton instinctively jumped away from the bag that chose that exact moment to fall down.

Awkward silence once again filled the small compartment. Penny looked to Easton, Fawlty hissed angrily at the bag that'd almost crushed him, and Easton herself finally found it in her to say something. "I'm good, thanks." On second thought, she should've probably stayed silent.

"Right," was Remus's humble response. He most definitely thought the girl in front of him was bonkers but was too much of a gentleman to show it. Instead he smiled that warm and friendly smile of his, bode them goodbye with a sheepish "See ya' then!" and disappeared, leaving the two girls completely dumbfounded.

"What's just happened?" Penny was the first to give any signs of life.

Easton picked up the bag from the compartment floor and looked and the place where only seconds ago stood one of the infamous Marauders.

"That, my dear Penny, was our nonexistent social life flipping us a bird," and she made to get off the train.

"Bloody Remus Lupin," Penelope mumbled under her breath and then noticed the ball of fur on one of the seats. "Hey, Tony, you forgot the cat!"

After all the first years were sorted into their rightful Houses (and Easton could've sworn the boy she'd met at the barrier was now thrown into the snake pit beside her,) it was time for Headmaster Dumbledore's annual welcome speech.

Easton had been successfully ignoring it for all the six years, but this time something in the wizard's normally cheery demeanour and voice seemed very off. And somehow she knew exactly what it was.

The past couple of weeks, the front pages of the Daily Prophet had been filled with the horrors of the upcoming war. Last week it was a family of muggles, and only two days ago a muggleborn Ministry official had been found dead in his house, reportedly tortured and killed with an Unforgivable.

Easton remembered the way her mother's face had paled with unease when she read the headline of one of the articles. She also remembered her father's reaction, or rather lack thereof. Given, Orpheus Greengrass had never been generous when it came to showing emotions, but what kept Easton up at night was the terrifying tranquility in his eyes and the ghost of a smile tugging on his thin, almost nonexistent lips.

"...I now invite you all to eat, drink, and make yourselves at home!"

Easton paid no heed to the foods appearing magically on the table. Instead, her eyes involuntarily moved to the far end of the Slytherin table occupied by the so called "Gang of Slytherins". The lot of them were whispering amongst each other, cackling at something her cousin Evan Rosier'd said.

Easton couldn't hold back an exasperated sigh that escaped her lips at the sight of them, a scowl finding its way to her face. Honestly, had she not known better, she would've thought their little Slytherin club was some sort of cover for something much more intimate and embarrassing.

"What's with the frown, Greengrass?" asked the girl at her right, whose name Easton couldn't remember for the life of her.

"Or better yet, _what's with the hair_ ," the familiar voice instantly pulled Easton out of the strange trance.

Felicity Higgs made her way to their part of the table, having previously been conversing with her younger brother Trevor, and sat beside Easton. Her porcelain skin seemed even paler now which brought out the slight darkness under her big, brown eyes, caused by many sleepless nights spent on the Quidditch pitch with her idiot of a sibling.

"Hello, Felicity," greeted Easton in an uncharacteristically reserved manner and put some food onto her plate. She wasn't really hungry, having lost all her appetite thanks to Slytherin's finest, but tried to at least pick at some chicken for appearance's sake.

"Where's your sister?" asked another girl - Daisy Flint was her name.

"Haven't the slightest."

Easton tried to keep small talk to a minimum, because it inevitably led to bigger talk and that in its turn was a Slytherin way to wiggle out new gossip and possible blackmail material.

"So, Easton," those words were never followed by anything even remotely positive, "us girls have been thinking lately," oh, that's bad, "What's going on with you and that Mudblood from Ravenclaw?" She practically spat out the word as though simply saying it could somehow taint years of her spotless inbred heritage.

Felicity was quite possibly referring to the poor Ravenclaw Prefect Adrian Williams who was unfortunate enough to have been assigned as Easton's Transfiguration tutor at the end of last year. He wasn't helping her now for obvious reasons (which all had to do with her being hopeless at it).

Easton grabbed onto the fork even tighter, imagining Felicity's smug face and that piggy little nose of hers wrinkling at the thought of pureblood contamination. All Easton really wanted to do was stand up and leave the Slytherin table to join Penelope and the other Hufflepuffs, but the bloody rules prohibited her from doing it—apparently you had to suffer through breakfasts and dinners with your sort. And suffer Easton did.

"Not to seem rude or anything, Felicity," those article tips must've really paid off, for now Easton was the embodiment of serenity despite the urge to strangle the gangly Slytherin Chaser, "but why exactly are you talking to me?"

"Why _wouldn't_ I be talking to you?"

Easton didn't even think the question worthy of an answer—her red hair, robes that had all sorts of pins stuck onto them and bright blue nail polish spoke for themselves.

"Right," Felicity concluded clearing her throat, "but seeing as soon we are to become...sisters of sorts—"

"What?" Easton looked at the blond in confusion, the fork now ready for action.

"You really haven't heard, have you?"

"Heard what?"

"Josefine..."

"JAMES POTTER, IF YOU SNIFF MY HAIR ONE MORE TIME, I SWEAR TO GOD—"

And it was time for the daily Gryffindor circus show, ladies and gentlemen. Everyone's eyes were now fixed on the lions' table, witnessing what was the normal interaction between Lily Evans and James Potter, also known as this year's Head Girl and Head Boy. Easton had no idea what was in those crazy Dumbledore candies, but he'd sure lost his marbles.

"I didn't sniff it! Come on, Lily, I promise!" James looked pleadingly to his best friend Sirius for some sort of support, but the latter only snickered, "You totally sniffed it, Prongs."

And suddenly Easton found herself completely distracted by Sirius Orion Black.

Again.

It was as if the whole Great Hall had narrowed to just him and his infectious, barking laughter filling the stone walls with its angelic melody. She couldn't take her eyes off his genuine, slightly mischievous smile, his ever-ruffled raven hair that hung just above his shoulders in light waves. _Ah._

Easton knew she was sick long before the illness really kicked in, what with the sodding pixies in her stomach and complete loss of any self respect when it came to the grey-eyed Marauder. She'd been terminal for five years, ever since he'd pulled the most amazing prank on the Slytherins (her included, but Easton couldn't care less because seeing her cousin Evan covered in disgusting green goo was just precious).

For five years she'd been pining after Sirius Black and yet the only time he had really acknowledged her existence was during Potions, in their fourth year, when James quite vocally deemed all Slytherins slimy bastards, and Sirius exclaimed "Oi, Greengrass s'alright", upon hearing which, Easton'd almost toppled her cauldron.

"Black is rather fit, isn't he?" Daisy noted and took a bite of her roasted chicken in a manner that made Easton wonder what was really on her mind in that moment.

"I saw him on the pitch yesterday," chipped in yet another girl whose name Easton didn't bother to learn.

Their eyes were glued to the subject of the heated discussion, that Easton didn't really fancy being a part of. And yet there she was, right in the middle of it all, while staring deeply at her plate.

"The way he works that bat...Salazar, I don't care care if he's a blood traitor, he can _Bludger_ me any time."

Easton almost choked on her pumpkin juice.

"I've heard he's dating that Mudblood McKinnon"

"Sirius Black doesn't date, Irma," Daisy scoffed. "Esme Clearwater from Ravenclaw once said that he's simply shameless and that thing he does with his—"

"Clearwater shagged him?" Felicity almost laughed at such ridiculous and apparently false statement. "She probably had a dream about it and thought it was true. Honestly, how she got sorted into Ravenclaw is beyond me, that girl can't even get into their Common Room most of the time."

Yes, that was true. Easton once saw poor Esme screaming at the merciless door knocker, ordering it to open and let her in. She'd been at it for at least an hour, until someone finally came to her rescue.

"Whatever, my parents would kill me if I got mixed up with him anyway," the nameless girl sighed in pure sadness. How truly dreadful it was, the prospect of never getting to shag Sirius Black, to which Easton could relate on a deeply spiritual level.

"Some things are simply worth dying for, Margery."

Oh, so _that_ was her name.


	4. Petrified is the new sexy

EASTON GREENGRASS DIDN'T HAVE MANY FRIENDS. In fact, she really only had one, and hearing Penelope humming one of Celestina Warbeck's "hits" now made her wonder if their friendship had ever been true at all.

They were in the library, sitting on the floor between the Herbology and the Charms sections, killing time before the next period and eating the muggle candy Penny's mother had sent her the previous morning. Neither of the two girls dared disturb the blissful peace, each absorbed into their own thing: the cheery Hufflepuff was reading another magazine snuggled in the corner of the aisle, while Easton was mindlessly sketching Sirius's aristocratic profile in her notepad.

"Would you stop singing that bloody song," Easton grumbled, having had enough of her friend's screeching.

Penny smiled sweetly. "Sod off," she answered and casually flipped the page of the magazine. "God, Julie Christie is a goddess."

"Show me." Penny instantly turned the magazine around so that Easton could see the front page, "Oh, Merlin, Al Pacino is so hot," Easton whined.

"That he is," the blond nodded in agreement and continued scanning the page, "we should definitely see "Godfather" again."

"We could make it a binge," Easton suggested, her face instantly lit up by the idea.

"How about this Christmas? You can come stay with me, it'll be fun," said Penelope.

She couldn't see the way her best friend's face instantly sunk, and Easton was thankful for that. Ever since third year, she would sneak out to visit the Hufflepuff for Christmas despite her parents' protest because apparently, " _meddling with a half-blood_ " was simply inexcusable, especially for a Greengrass. And if Easton didn't care about what her parents said before, now she couldn't shake off the eerie tightness in her chest that felt disgustingly like fear.

Easton Greengrass was afraid. Afraid of everything that was going on, afraid of what could happen, afraid of her father, who she was almost completely certain had a part in all of it. And she didn't want to leave her mother alone with him and her dimwit of a sister.

"You okay?"

Easton instantly looked up at Penelope. The Hufflepuff was regarding her closely, concern evident in her kind blue eyes.

"Yeah, I was just thinking," Easton mumbled and put the notepad aside, "my mother...she wanted to visit her family in France this Christmas, so we'll probably head there for the holidays."

Lying was one of the few things Easton was surprisingly good at. She could get herself out of any situation only by opening her mouth and letting her silver tongue do all the work. But if most of the time, or rather all of the time, it brought her exceptional joy, now Easton felt nothing but guilt and remorse. For she'd never lied to Penelope before and hated herself for doing it now.

"Oh, bugger," Penny looked genuinely disheartened by the sudden news, which only made Easton feel worse. "That sucks, Tony, but I promise to save you some of mum's pecan pie," she added and winked playfully. "That should heal all the horrors of your upcoming quality time with 'the fam'."

"And the Mars bars?" asked Easton in a small voice.

Penelope rolled her eyes and laughed, "And the Mars bars, now stop sulking and let's do this quiz."

Easton smiled and crawled closer to Penny to take a good look at the page.

"" _How to know if your crush likes you back_ "," she read dutifully, and it took a while for the title to truly register.

Penelope snickered.

"Ha-ha how very funny, Penny, congrats, truly," Easton laughed sarcastically and graced her friend with an unimpressed glare.

"But in all seriousness, Tony, a girl's gotta know. Come on, let's take it!"

"Really, Penny? I doubt Black knows of my existence much less likes me, yeah right," snorted Easton and took another bite of the chocolate.

But Penelope Abbott wasn't kidding, for now she looked positively murderous.

"We've already been through this, Tony," she almost growled impatiently, "he knows who you are. Potions? Fourth year?"

"He's probably forgotten all about it already," dismissed Easton.

"You're the most un-Slytherin Slytherin to have ever existed, Tony-Ton, if anything you should be his personal hero. A Superman to his Lois Lane," Penelope added dreamily.

"Really, Penny? A Superman?"

"I'm just saying that it's the last year, which is the perfect time to embarrass yourself if something goes wrong." Penny returned to reading the magazine, looking oh so innocent as if she hadn't just turned Easton's world upside down.

"Why if it _is_ the year of embarrassments, dear Penny-Pen," Easton began in a sickeningly sweet voice, "why don't you finally invite Andrew Bones to Hogsmeade and tell him all about how you stole his Quidditch jersey last year?"

There was a minute of silence.

"I hate you," Penny finally replied.

"I hate me too," smiled Easton and picked up her notepad.

The small Muggle Studies classroom was filled with golden sunlight; it came in through the window glass, spreading its rays to the walls, wooden desks, and Sirius Black's shiny raven hair that looked like a dark night sky lit up by thousands of shining stars. Or at least so thought Easton with a pencil between her teeth and eyes glued to Sirius's mesmerising mane.

She probably should've been listening to Professor Burbage telling away about the wonders of the muggle world but found daydreaming much more interesting. Easton couldn't help but wonder if his hair was soft to the touch, how it would feel to run her fingers through the silky black locks, wondered if he liked...

"...Miss Greengrass?"

Easton had almost fallen out of her seat dropping the pencil in the process; a dull sound of it hitting the desk instantly resounded in the classroom walls. Before she knew it all eyes were fixed on her—the only seventh year Slytherin in the Muggle Studies class.

"Y-yes, Professor?" Easton stammered and looked to the front of the classroom, where the teacher stood regarding her intently with twinkling mirth in her eyes. Easton couldn't care less about the idiot Bones, who whispered something to his friend whilst pointing a finger in her direction, didn't give a flying Snitch about McKinnon barely holding back her undoubtedly angelic laughter. No, Easton was used to such looks and they didn't really bother her, but there was one pair of eyes amongst many others that made her cheeks grow almost as red as her new hair.

"Would you like to join our discussion or would you rather keep on daydreaming?".

Normally, Easton loved Professor Burbage for the most part because she taught Muggle Studies - the only subject Easton was quite decent in (thanks to Penelope). However, right in that very moment, Easton wanted nothing more than to strangle the woman.

"Sorry, Professor," she mumbled and dropped her eyes to the plain wooden desk, squirming uncomfortably in her seat.

Unfortunately, Easton was not lucky enough to be left in peace.

"We were just talking about muggle means of transportation, Miss Greengrass." Professor Burbage was all too happy to continue her torture. "Would you happen to know anything about it?"

She did in fact. About a year ago Penelope had shown Easton the wonders of the London tube, and they spent almost all day riding it, after which the two friends hopped on one of those silly buses and rode around the city until almost midnight. Penny's parents were livid, but it had definitely been worth it.

"Em..." Easton wasn't really sure what she was supposed to say, so of course she went on babbling, "There are... cars? B-buses? Oh and the tube of course, yes, definitely that one."

 _Merlin, I hate myself._

"And which one is the fastest?" asked way too smugly for Easton's liking.

"S-surely the tube," Easton answered timidly playing with the pencil in her hands, "I mean with buses and cars you could easily get stuck in a t-traffic jam, but the tube will take you anywhere in just a matter of minutes."

The class went silent. And so did Professor Burbage, thank Merlin.

"Thank you, Miss Greengrass. Now open your books to page..."

The rest of the lesson went without any further embarrassments, for which Easton was eternally thankful, and Professor Burbage quickly dismissed the class after assigning them a ten-inch essay on the pros and cons of muggle transportation. Easton was the first to jump from her seat and start packing; she threw the books and quills into her cross-body bag and all but stormed out of the classroom.

"Hey, wait!"

Easton stopped in her tracks in the middle of the corridor and just stood there without moving a muscle. She knew that voice. She also knew the sound of his steps, which grew closer with each passing second, and boy oh boy was she not ready for that.

Sirius Black now stood in front of Easton. His grey, steely eyes were looking at her directly, his hair, holy Founders, it took all of her not to reach out and touch it. And, Merlin, his smile, it was positively enthralling.

No wonder so many panties fell under its bewitching charms.

"As far as I remember we've got History next, so why in the world are you in such a hurry?" he laughed. Easton laughed too, and she was wishing she hadn't, for it'd sounded more like cackling.

 _He knows I'm in his History class_ it suddenly dawned on her.

"Easton, right? Easton Greengrass?"

It's not like Easton was completely dense. She knew that this was one of those situations, as it happens in all dialogues, when it was her turn to say something or at least move, but she could do neither. She just stood there looking like there was a Giant Squid in front of her—absolutely horrified.

"You know a lot about the muggle world for a pureblood," Sirius pointed out, humorously narrowing his eyes at her. "What's your secret?"

 _Come on, Easton, say at least something._

"A secret? I-I don't think I have one, really," she stammered; Easton could feel her heart doing triple axels in her chest. "I'm a shite secret keeper, to be honest. Huh, that's funny, actually. I once was covering for my sister, you know Josefine, right? Of course you know her, who _doesn't_ , am I right?" As soon as nervous giggles left her mouth Easton knew she was done for. But, alas, it was already too late. "Right, so I was covering for her while she was out having a weekend-long snogging session with that boyfriend of hers, Trevor, Trevor Higgs, you must know him, he's an absolute arse. I—" Easton suddenly stopped when she noticed that Sirius was watching her with an amused smile on his face. "Oh, fuck, I'm so sorry, it's..."

"Oi Padfoot! You won't believe what the tea leaves told Moony...Oh," James Potter halted when he saw that his best friend wasn't alone. And Easton wished nothing more than to just magically disappear.

Remus Lupin slowly walked up behind Potter, seemingly less eager to share the quite subjectively exciting story, looking rather run down. James, however, looked like a hyper puppy who vitally needed his friend's attention and was quite disappointed to find him busy, and with a Slytherin at that.

"Oh, hello," Remus broke the silence again gracing Easton with his amiable smile, "Easton, correct?"

Easton was shamefully proud of herself for mustering a nod.

"Guys—"

"I should probably go," Easton said quickly, interrupting Sirius; she winced at her own stupidity. "I'm so sorry, you were going to say something, and I..." she felt herself starting to babble again, but, thankfully, managed to control it this time.

"It's fine, Easton," Sirius laughed, quite amused by her awkwardness, "Nice meeting you."

Easton froze as if petrified. Really, she could do nothing but stare at Sirius Black in the most creepy and embarrassing way, playing nervously with the bag strap.

"R-right," she mumbled at last and slowly started to retreat, "Goodbye then—I mean, 'see you', ob-bviously, we have History together," she giggled. "Alright, bye!"

Easton swiftly turned her back to them and started walking away as fast as possible without coming off weird. Well, weird _er_.

The three Marauders just stood in the middle of the empty corridor watching the girl awkwardly turn the corner and disappear from sight.

"That girl is all kinds of bizarre," Remus Lupin pointed out.

"What else can you expect from a Slytherin?" James sighed as if nothing the snakes did ever surprised him. "The lot of them are off their rockers, what with all that inbreeding".

"Nah," said Sirius, "Greengrass s'alright."


	5. Oh, purebloods

EASTON WASN'T THE BRIGHTEST WITCH OF HER AGE and she never claimed to be. Even if she did, no one would have believed her, for she continuously failed in all her subjects and had barely passed her O. with only 2 O's (Muggle Studies and Divination, in which Easton excelled thanks to her vivid imagination and a knack for acting).

And seeing as she didn't have it in her grand plans to become the brightest witch of her age anytime soon, Easton thought it wasn't such a bad idea to skip Transfiguration and spend the now free period in the common room reading a horribly clichéd and sappy romance novel instead. The book of noble wizards with wands so powerful they could rival the Elder (if you know what I mean), and fair maidens who were, to put it plainly, easy. Such books weren't particularly educational (in the traditional kind of way, that is), but Easton enjoyed them nonetheless, for it was a great escape from the boring Hogwarts reality.

Well, as boring as magic and wizardry could get.

The Slytherin common room was surprisingly deserted that morning, which was rather unusual, but then again, Easton was skipping a class. With that observation she felt free to comment on every stupid line in the book, as she happened to be prone to do quite often, and right when Thorfynn took hold of Priscilla's hand and pulled her into his arms, Easton burst into girly giggles knowing full well what would follow.

"Right," she snorted soundly, stuffing her mouth with leftover candy from Honeydukes. "Now that's foreplay, my boy".

"Enjoying yourself?"

Easton could feel her face burning red and gripped the damned book for dear life as if could save her from the unavoidable embarrassment. She didn't dare look up at the intruder; instead, she shut her eyes tightly, took a deep breath and then quickly opened them to keep on reading the scene that was as hot as her face felt.

"Could you maybe leave and pretend it never happened," Easton begged, her eyes still locked on the page although right about now the words seemed more like a collection of random letters to her.

"Relax, Greengrass, it's hardly blackmail material. Everybody already knows you're weird," the voice said, and Easton got curious. That's why she tore her eyes away from the book and looked up at none other than Regulus Black, who sat in an armchair across from her, pensively (as per usual) staring in the distance.

"Don't you have classes?" she asked timidly.

For some reason Easton was scared of Regulus Black, even though he was a year younger, and she was supposed to be an intimidating seventh year. Yeah, em, _no_.

He wasn't particularly frightening in the way that her father or Lucius Malfoy were; no, despite his unexplainable affiliation with the "Gang of Slytherins", which Easton always found strange seeing as Regulus was ten times the wizard that they could ever be, he had a different kind of 'scary' to him.

Regulus wasn't violent, at least not physically. His words, however, at those rare times he actually spoke, stung deeper than a serpent's teeth; his calculating, stormy grey eyes that were so much like his brother's and yet so very different, probed deep into your soul as if seeing right through you.

Regulus Black was a Slytherin shadow—it's like he wasn't even there and yet somehow everywhere, behind every corner, every corridor, every room. Easton guessed it was a skill he had acquired by living with his parents, and couldn't help but feel sorry for him. For despite his cold demeanour, she was sure that Regulus Black was just a little boy craving human affection and receiving none from his harpy of a mother.

"Don't you?" he shot back, not even bothering to look at Easton.

"Yes, but I'm too far gone at this point." Her pathetic attempt at humor went unappreciated.

Regulus said nothing. And he continued saying nothing for so long that the silence started to make Easton uncomfortable. For if there was anything she couldn't handle, which there was admittedly a lot, it was silence. Just to make it abundantly clear–Easton was not one of those people who found long pauses calming and peaceful. No, to her they were bloody mortifying, which might or might not have had something to do with her utter lack of self-confidence.

Was it something she'd said? Did she have to start talking again just to fill the awkward silence with something she'd later regret?

"So..." Easton trailed tentatively, "are you—D-do you like reading?" She tried to look as if she'd fully intended to ask this question and didn't just want to fill the awkward silence.

"We don't have to talk, Greengrass."

 _Right._

"Yeah, sure, no problem," Easton laughed nonchalantly. She stole another glance at Regulus, who was still sitting in the same position with the same reflective look on his regal face, and quickly dropped her eyes to the long-forgotten book. Easton was sucked back into the imaginary world in a matter of minutes; Torquin's hand was in Ophelia's thick blonde curls, his lips devouring her mouth with a fiery passion, his other hand...

A blush crept up Easton cheeks. She peeked at Regulus to see if he'd noticed anything to yet again find him in the very same position. At this point she was wondering if he was even breathing, let alone blinking.

"Stop staring at me, Greengrass," Regulus droned in his apathetic voice, and Easton almost jumped.

"Sorry," she mumbled.

Easton really did try to get back to the reading but found it rather difficult, what with Regulus just sitting there and looking like a statue. So she struck the most casual pose she was physically capable of and started flipping through the pages of the book.

She looked at Regulus.

He didn't even move a muscle.

Easton then closed the book loudly and started examining its cover with almost theatrical seriousness whilst humming a new Beatles song that she'd recently fallen in love with.

"Stop it," ordered Regulus's monotonous voice.

Easton instantly shut up. But it didn't last long, "Don't you like The Beatles?"

Regulus's face finally moved in what was utter disgust. "What, the filthy insects? What is wrong with you, Greengrass?"

 _Oh, purebloods._

"Forget it," she huffed.

"Gladly," Regulus seethed sarcastically.

And just like that Easton realised she had nothing to do, which happened to be another thing she was ridiculously bad at handling. So she picked up her book and stood up from the couch.

"I'm gonna go now," Easton announced carefully. She didn't even know why she felt the need to explain herself.

Regulus said nothing.

"Right, well, good luck with your—this, em," she made a weird gesture with her hands, " _thinking_ ,".

Regulus said nothing.

Easton finally left.

There weren't many people in the Great Hall, as it was lunch time and many preferred to spend the peaceful break in the dorms or in the library, finishing their homework. Students were scattered at the tables in no particular House orientation, mingling and talking to each other, and only Slytherins still occupied their rightful places, observing what was "House Unity" with absolute loathing.

Entering the Hall, Easton instantly spotted her blond-haired friend and hurried to the Hufflepuff table where Penelope was actively chatting with some girls from Gryffindor, who she recognized to be Mary McDonald and...Marlene McKinnon?

"Hello," Easton greeted way too loudly, somewhat confused as to why her best friend was talking to Sirius's girlfriend.

That bloody traitor.

Penny instantly stopped whatever it was she was saying and looked up at Easton, a smile instantly gracing her features. "Blimey, if it isn't Easton," she gasped sarcastically. "Sleep well?"

Easton narrowed her eyes at Penelope as if showing that she wouldn't be played like that, and then slumped on the bench next to her.

"Perfectly well, thanks," she replied with a tight smile that screamed "I'll murder you in your sleep even though we're in different Houses, beware".

But Penelope chose to ignore her friend's foul mood and perked up in her seat. "The girls told me that Lily Evans was looking for you," she informed with casual indifference.

"Something about Charms," Mary supplied with a friendly smile.

Easton always wondered how it was that Mary and Marlene were friends, for Mary was a pure angel with kind dark eyes and a disposition that could melt the heart of any Slytherin and Marlene...well, Marlene just was.

 _Ugh._

"Great," muttered Easton and took out the chocolate frog she'd brought with her.

Just when she was about to take a bite, Penny spoke, "Oh, I almost forgot," she reached for her school bag, and after a couple of torturous moments of digging in its depths she extracted an envelope and handed it to Easton. "Here."

"What's that?"

"A letter. Your owl dropped it off at the breakfast that you missed," Penelope said to Easton with pure contempt, "and seeing as you'd decided to sleep in and it couldn't well deliver the letter to the dungeons, I was the next best thing."

"Ah it's from my mother," Easton muttered looking at the beautiful curvy handwriting. "It's the tenth letter in two months, she's truly outdone herself."

Easton was surprised it wasn't a Howler, for she hadn't replied to the two latest letters, and carefully opened the envelope, not particularly ready to be exposed to Ophelia Greengrass's blazing rage. However, it never came, for the letter wasn't from her mother.

It was from her father.

Easton recognised it instantly: by the way he addressed her as "Easton", just "Easton" without any words of endearment, and the way his handwriting looked pedantically perfect on the crispy parchment, reminding her of ancient Gothic manuscripts.

But her father had never written a single letter to her in all the six years at Hogwarts. Why the sudden change?

"Tony?" said Penelope, not missing the way her friend's face had suddenly paled.

But Easton couldn't bring herself to say anything. She just stared at the letter in utter puzzlement as if the whole concept of letters was completely foreign to her, and then awkwardly stood up from the seat under the concerned eyes of Penny and equally curious stares of the two Gryffindors. "Is everything okay? Where are you going?"

Looking absolutely lost in the moment, Easton gripped her bag and hastily headed to the exit.

"Everything's fine, I...I'll be right back," she wasn't sure anyone had heard her mumbles and didn't really care at that point.

Easton ran out of the Great Hall, the letter held tightly in her hand, and continued running down the corridors until she found a little alcove. She immediately slid into it so that no could see her and opened the letter again with trembling, cold fingers.

" _Easton,_

 _As you have probably noticed, I unfortunately was not able to join your mother at the station this year to see off Josefine and you. However, I had planned on having a long talk with you before the school year began, an opportunity which I, again, missed due to the Ministry._

 _Therefore, I am sending you this letter._

 _You have a very important year ahead of you, Easton, and I expect nothing short of total compliance with my wishes._

 _Your mother has informed me of the previous quarrels you have had, and for many years I urged her to bear with you and your adolescent , this cannot continue._ "

Her eyes were rapidly scanning the contents of the letter, landing on random words and phrases until they stumbled upon a sentence that had Easton instantly stop and lean against the cold stone wall in defeat.

" _Times are ever-changing, Easton. Believe me when I say that change is coming sooner than you might think, and for that you have to be prepared. For your own sake and, of course, for the sake of our family._

 _I demand that you put a stop to this tiresome rebellion and become the daughter your mother and I expect you to be, and behave in a manner worthy of the Greengrass heir._

 _I have spoken with Professor Slughorn, who informed me of your continued unsatisfactory performance at school. I have arranged for you to be provided with a tutor for each subject that you apparently have no interest in adequately studying for by yourself._ "

Easton scoffed at her father's ever-present condescendension, and read on:

" _We expect good results from you come Christmas. This year our home will welcome a number of guests to whom you will be formally is imperative that you be on your best behaviour during their visit, for the good of the family._

 _Do not disappoint me again._

 _Orpheus B. Greengrass_ "

Easton could feel her body slump to the ground while she was trying to comprehend her father's words. " _For the good of the family_ " he repeated over and over again, oh what a phenomenal puppet master he was. But did she expect anything different from the man who'd manipulated her mother and then herself all these years? Josefine was too young, or rather too dimwitted to see what went on behind the doors of his gloomy study room, what hid behind his dark brown eyes, what was going through that twisted mind of his while he mindlessly caressed the dangerously alluring onyx that crowned the handle of his elaborate cane. But Easton suspected.

She doubted that anyone else really did, for the thought itself made you want to look the other way.

Hours seemed to have gone by when Easton finally composed herself enough to get up and leave the alcove. She shoved the letter into one of the pockets of her dishevelled robes and made for the Great Hall, when suddenly there was the familiar cackling behind her back.

"Oi, freak!" called one of the voices.

Easton instantly tensed but paid them no mind and continued her way.

"I'm talking to you, freak!"

Oh, how she wanted to spin around and hex every single one of those goons, but she took a deep breath and quickened her pace instead. Unfortunately, the idiotic members of her House had much longer legs (oh, how Easton envied them) and in a matter of seconds stood in front of her.

The holy trinity that were Cordiac Avery, Regulus Black, and her dear cousin Evan Rosier, were blocking the way to the Great Hall, corrupting the air with their sickening aura of misplaced self-importance. Evan looked the most smug, with his toothy smirk that looked utterly off-putting, and equally obnoxious disposition.

"I believe you didn't hear us, Greengrass," he pointed out in a manner that he thought was quite threatening.

Easton batted her lashes innocently, not at all intimidated. "Oh, I sure did," she said sweetly. "Did you have anything important to say, Evan? See, lunch is going to be over soon and I'd rather spend this time eating a sandwich instead of talking to you."

Evan's smirk grew into a full-on sociopathic smile as he shared a look with his goons.

"Think that horrendous red hair of yours makes you dangerous, do you now, Tinsy?" He cooed, the tone Easton found absolutely nauseating.

"Don't call me that," she muttered for no one to hear.

"What's wrong, Tinsy? Do we make you uncomfortable?"

"Just say what is it that you want, Evan," Easton fumed, which was bound to make them laugh. And they did, under her malicious glare.

"Easy, there ickle Tinsy, it's really unbecoming of a lady to act like that. Your father would surely be disappointed, if he wasn't already."

He knew he'd hit a nerve when the rage in Easton's bright blue eyes morphed into a mixture of surprise and fear. Did he know about the letter?

"Hanging out with half-bloods, dating a mud-blood, taking up Muggle studies?" Evan hissed, almost snake-like. "What exactly do you study there, Tiny? How to be filthy and useless? In that case, you have nothing else to learn, do you? You've already excelled in it."

"Get out of my way," Easton gritted through her teeth, her fingers closing around the wand in the pocket.

"Oh, come on, Tinsy, don't fret," Evan drawled and came closer, now towering over her. "Your mother told me to look after you this year, ickle cousin. I am intending to just that." He smiled, and Easton found it took everything in her not to hit him in the face.

She held Evan's eyes defiantly, not showing an ounce of fear until he finally backed away with the same cocky smirk on his lips.

"See you later, Tinsy. I'll be watching you."

 _Well, fuck._

 **A/N:** Hello again! I'm not sure if anyone's reading this, but if you do, pleeeease leave a comment, pretty-pretty please, or just give a sign so I know you actually exist lol


	6. Easton is mysterious

**A/N: Thank you guys for following and liking this story! And a huge thank you to those who actually take time to write a review! It really reaaaally means a lot!**

 **Without further ado, here's the chapter! I hope you'll like it:)**

THE SUN WAS SHINING HIGH in the cloudless azure sky, but its rays no longer brought the delightful sense of warmth, instead almost mocking you with the beautiful illusion.

Autumn was at its peak, mercilessly shredding the old, noble oaks of their emerald coats and turning the leaves into an equally mesmerizing golden carpet. On it, underneath one of the mighty trees, sat Easton. She seemed to be deep in thought while mindlessly petting Fawlty, who sat comfortably on her thighs enjoying the ministrations.

Easton, however, was not nearly as peaceful.

It was almost the end of October, which meant that Christmas was coming awfully close, which meant...

"Oh, sod it," Easton heaved in annoyance. "That's exactly what he wanted, Fawlty, and I fell right into his...his mind game. Really, I did, how stupid." She let out a nervous, shaky laugh and kept on complaining to the cat. "That's what Evan does, you know—he fucks with your bloody mind like a...like a—Ah! That...that bastard!"

Fawlty only purred, obviously approving of the new pressure that came with Easton's sudden fit of anger.

"If I were a cat, I would've scratched that bloody smirk off his aristocratic face," she seethed through clenched teeth and then suddenly looked at Fawlty as if having an epiphany. "Could you do it?" she asked. "I'd pay you in milk. Lots and lots of milk!"

Silence.

"So, what do you say?"

Fawlty flicked his furry tail and meowed.

"Yeah, I know the offer sucks," Easton sighed, accepting her defeat, "but I'll come up with something. You just wait."

Believe it or not, but there was actually a reason for Easton's sudden desire to take a walk to the Great Lake instead of spending time in the Library doing homework or reading a romance novel in her cozy four-poster bed. And the reason was Sirius Black, which perhaps shouldn't be surprising at all.

Everything happened very quickly, to be honest. Easton was just gathering her things after another "successful" class when she overheard Sirius talking to James about something, which, if his mischievous smile and childish giddiness were anything to go by, was quite exciting. She listened to the conversation while pretending to sort her quills, which wasn't at all suspicious, but failed to make out anything interesting.

What happened next Easton couldn't quite explain, for she herself didn't understand what made her follow Sirius Black to the lake, hiding behind every tapestry and pillar on her way like an awkward excuse for a spy.

And yet there she was, sitting behind the tree trunk with Fawlty in her hands, trying to discreetly look Sirius's way and see what it was he was so excited about.

The mystery was soon no more.

Easton couldn't decide if she was happy or disappointed because the reason for the grey-eyed Marauder's elation was...his girlfriend, Marlene McKinnon. Oh, how very boring. Easton expected something along the lines of skinny dipping or a sexy mid-day workout, or a hot date with some hussy from Ravenclaw, but alas, it was just a romantic picnic.

Who had bloody picnics in Autumn?

Easton should've felt terrible for watching them, but she didn't, not really. She made sure to scoff in annoyance every time Marlene flipped her perfect golden curls in a nauseatingly girly manner, and wanted to stuff the girl's mouth with a slug whenever the Gryffindor laughed as gracefully as the Queen of England.

Merlin, you couldn't even really insult her, for there was nothing not to like about McKinnon. And that was the only flaw Easton could really find.

"Pathetic," came an exasperated sigh.

Easton was so absorbed in her stalking that she hadn't noticed Regulus Black sitting next to her on the cold ground, and nearly shrieked in fear.

"What the fuck, Regulus?" she whisper-yelled, turning to the younger Slytherin. "You scared the shit out of me!"

He didn't acknowledge her accusations in any way; he simply looked bored.

"What are you doing here?"

Again, no reaction. Easton wasn't even sure Regulus knew she was there. His face bore the expression of utter disinterest while he was looking at his brother.

And then it suddenly dawned on her.

"Did you follow me?" Easton asked, irritated.

"Why would I follow you, Greengrass?"

"Well, you and my dear cousin seem to be bosom friends these days; he could've asked you to do my parents' dirty work."

Regulus finally shifted his steely cold gaze to her, and Easton felt a shiver creep down her spine from its intensity. She couldn't remember him gracing her with direct eye contact, like, ever. And it was quite intimidating, for it seemed Easton's choice of words had triggered something in the younger Black.

"I do no one's bidding, Greengrass," he said slowly and in a dangerously quiet manner as if delivering a threat.

Easton wasn't sure how she managed to breathe under his burning glare, but suddenly found herself talking. "Why are you here then? Surely not to spy on your brother."

"He's no brother of mine," Regulus spat, his voice devoid of any emotion once again. It's like he had this switch somewhere deep inside that let him turn them off, and Easton found she quite envied that ability.

"Right, he's a blood-traitor," she 'suddenly' recalled with mock obviousness. "I bet all of you wonder how it is that my family hasn't disowned me yet. Believe me, it's one of those things I reflect on instead of counting hippogriffs when sleep fails me." Easton blubbered on and on, without a care in the world, "Personally, I think it's because they know Josefine is too dimwitted to be trusted, and seeing as they didn't make any more babies, that leaves me."

It was as if Regulus hadn't heard a word she'd said, and only when Fawlty purred in his sleep, did he show any signs of life.

"What's that thing?"

"Really? That's a cat, Regulus. Educate yourself, Merlin," she shook her head disapprovingly at him.

"I know what it is, it just looks horrendous."

Easton drew her breath at this remark, deeply offended. She then pressed Fawlty closer to her and kissed his furry head. "You're perfect, darling, don't listen to him," she whispered affectionately under Regulus's puzzled stare.

"I don't get it," he suddenly said.

"Don't get what?" Easton asked briskly, still angry with him for fat-shaming her cat.

"You..." he seemed unsure of his own words. "I don't get you."

If Easton was surprised by his unexpected fit of honesty—and she was—she didn't show it.

"Are you saying I'm mysterious?" she scoffed.

"That's one way of putting it."

Easton could've sworn on Audrey Hepburn's brows that she'd caught a ghost of smile on Regulus's lips.

"You're not so bad either," she found herself saying. "When you don't hang around with my cousin, that is."

Silence sat between them. And then, "Why did you colour your hair?"

"Sorry?"

"You knew that would only make people laugh at you more, so why did you do it?" Regulus sounded genuinely interested, and Easton couldn't get angry at him for such an insensitive question given her own history of saying stupid things.

"Honestly? I did it to piss off my mother. And it worked," she smiled at the wonderful memory.

Regulus huffed. "You're just like him."

Easton followed his eyes; Sirius was in his element, telling Marlene one of many ridiculous stories of the Marauders's adventures, and she was hanging on his every word like the perfect girlfriend she was.

The happy couple, however, was absolutely unaware of the two grumpy Slytherins watching them with what was utter disdain.

"No," Easton said thoughtfully, still looking at Sirius. "I would never leave my sister."

She turned around to see Regulus watching her intently with a slight puzzlement in his stormy eyes, brows furrowed as if he was trying really hard to figure something out.

One of the few things that helped Easton make it through the rest day was the thought of returning to the dorms after classes were over. No matter what happened, Easton knew that despite anything she would end up in her bed, snuggled in its warmth and softness.

And that was exactly what she was doing now: as soon as she entered the dorm room, Easton practically collapsed onto her bed.

Oh, wonderful. She closed her eyes and let out an exhausted sigh, feeling her lips stretch into a content smile.

"Greengrass!"

Not so wonderful.

"What are you doing?" Daisy Travers asked in confusion. She stood in the doorway quizzically regarding Easton, who was lying across the bed fully dressed in her school uniform.

"Whaddo you wan'," Easton groaned, her words muffled by the bedsheets.

"That mudblood Evans is waiting for you at the Common Room entrance," Daisy informed her in a bored voice. "Says it's 'urgent'".

"Ebans?" Easton tore her head away from the softness of the pillow. "What does she want?"

"Do I look like a Seer to you?"

Easton rolled her eyes and reluctantly got up with a loud sigh that perfectly rendered all the pain she was feeling at that very moment. Leaving the girls' dorms, she managed to sneak through the Common Room unnoticed by Evan and his merry band that occupied the sofas near the fireplace. It was the only source of warmth in the freezing chill of the dungeons.

Easton could hear her cousin's disgusting chortles dissolve into barely audible echoes as she neared the exit. Merlin, how she despised him and the way her mother always put the Rosier heir on the pedestal. Evan this, Evan that—it's like they wanted Easton to hate him.

The stone wall slowly slid open, and Easton found herself face to face with the red-haired Head Girl.

"Hi," she smiled brightly enough to light up the gloomy dungeons. "I'm Lily, Lily Evans."

"Yeah, I know."

"And you must be Easton Greengrass, is that right?"

"I...guess?" Easton droned unenthusiastically.

Lily seemed a bit confused by her reply, but it was barely enough to discourage her. "Wow, you're a tough person to find! I mean I've been trying to catch you for two weeks, but it's like you always...disappear," she laughed.

"Yes, well, I've been told I was quite mysterious," Easton admitted with all seriousness.

"Right, so...I take it Professor Slughorn has already...filled you in?" Lily trailed.

Easton raised her brow inquisitively. "On what?"

"On the whole tutoring thing," Lily supplied. "He didn't tell you?" she sounded absolutely horrified, her emerald eyes becoming the size of a Bludger.

"Ah right! The tutoring thing," Easton exclaimed as if it had just come to her. "Sorry, I just...forgot about it, I guess. So are you the martyr?"

Lily laughed. "You could say that. I'm in charge of Potions and Charms," she explained dutifully.

"How...charming," Easton looked awfully proud of herself. "Did you get it? 'Cause...oh, it was horrible, I know, I'm sorry."

Lily could barely stifle a snigger and stay professional. "How does this Sunday sound to you?" she asked.

Easton shrugged, "Yeah, it's fine."

"Great!" Lily smiled again.

Easton could tell that there was something else by the way the fiery Gryffindor was examining the walls.

"Something wrong?" She inquired.

Lily instantly blushed for being caught red-handed.

"I...Oh, it's nothing really," she laughed and shook her head at her own silliness, "One of my friends has been trying to guess the passwords to your Common Room, and I was just wondering myself, that's all."

"It's 'Pureblood'," Easton said with absolute nonchalance, as if she'd not just betrayed her whole House.

Lily blinked at her in total awe. "What?"

"I know, very original," Easton rolled her eyes. "Tell your friend to make good use of it. I'll be waiting," she grinned mischievously. "Bye, Evans!"

It was almost 3 a.m when Easton woke up with a sudden and most acute need for ice cream. The feeling was one of those inexplicable things that just happened, and all you could do was follow your instinct and quench the craving. So that was exactly what Easton did.

In her Pink Panther-themed pajamas and a robe thrown on top, she made it to the kitchens through the deadly silent—and quite scary—corridors of Hogwarts, all the while looking out for any sounds of meowing that would undoubtedly lead to disaster.

Easton and Penelope discovered the entrance to the kitchens back in the second year, after Penny had seen a door open near the Hufflepuff Common Room. Ever since that mysterious incident the two girls made it their life's purpose to find the door and where it led, which they finally did. And what a divine discovery that was.

Still in a daze after waking up in the middle of the night, Easton tickled the giggly pear in the painting and watched as the door appeared in the middle of it.

"Winky?" she whispered, carefully walking in and looking around.

As if on cue, the little house elf popped up in front of her.

"Is Miss Greengrass in need of help?" asked Winky, blinking her big blue eyes at the sleepy Slytherin.

"I wondered if I could please have some ice cream?"

"Of course, of course!" the little elf fussed and with a snap of the fingers conjured a bowl of all-flavored dessert. "What else can Winky do for Miss Greengrass?"

"It's all I need, Winky, thank you," Easton smiled warmly at the house elf and took the bowl with almost childish excitement.

After the elf disappeared, she climbed onto of one of the tables near the brick fireplace to keep herself warm and Accio'd a spoon. There was no way to describe how absolutely happy Easton was when the sweet treasure found her mouth. It was like the missing piece of the puzzle that was her life had finally found its way home, and everything suddenly made sense. With every spoonful she took, Easton felt more and more content and by the end of it realised that ice cream could actually save the world, if only Voldemort tried it once.

"Damn, I'll have what you're having!"

Easton stopped eating and completely froze with the spoon in her mouth. Was it her sleep-deprived brain playing tricks on her or was it actually...?

"Are you alright?"

 _Okay, now you can panic._

Easton took the spoon out of her mouth, swallowed the ice cream and finally looked up at Sirius Black, who was watching her with that smirk of his... _Ah_!

"Hey," she smiled timidly.

"Hello to you, too," Sirius stepped closer and jumped onto the table opposite her, with a plate of pumpkin pasties in his hands.

They sat in complete silence for a couple of minutes that, to the terror-stricken Easton, seemed more like hours. All of a sudden she lost her appetite and was now just playing with the mushy ice cream in the bowl.

"Knut for your thoughts?" Sirius spoke, taking a bite of a pasty.

"It's nothing. I...sorry, my brain's just a bit fuzzy now, probably should've stayed in bed instead of raiding the kitchens," she laughed weakly.

"How'd you find the entrance by the way?"

"My friend did back in the second year," Easton explained, barely looking at Sirius—she wouldn't be able to keep direct eye contact with him. She'd probably just faint.

Sirius let out an impressed whistle. "That's badass! We only managed it in third year!

Easton just shrugged and smiled shyly in response.

"Your friend is Penelope Abbots, right? The Hufflepuff".

"Yeah," she replied. "Why?"

"A Slytherin and a Hufflepuff," Sirius mused, "that's something."

"It shouldn't be, really," Easton regretted the words as soon as they'd left her mouth.

"What do you mean?" Sirius asked, intrigued.

Easton felt extremely uncomfortable being the center of his attention. Admiring him was easy when he hadn't been aware of her existence. Being noticed was something she was definitely not ready for, especially not in her pink pyjamas.

She gripped the bowl more tightly, nervously tracing its edges with her index finger. "I think that's what's wrong with our school—the House prejudice," she began in a small voice. "A friendship between a Hufflepuff and a Slytherin shouldn't be weird, you know? I mean...we're all people, all the same, so why should the colour of our uniform or...p-purity of our blood determine who we're friends with? It's...stupid."

When Sirius said nothing, Easton wanted to take it all back and just run away to the comfort of her bed. However, when she finally found the courage to look up from the bowl, she was caught by his grey eyes. That's exactly what they did: trapped you inside their depths, almost hypnotized you and rendered you absolutely speechless.

The flames danced in the fireplace, coating the room in a dull, orange light, and Easton could see the fires flicker in Sirius's eyes. In this light, he looked even more mesmerising than usual, with his dangerously sharp jawline and high, slightly hollow cheekbones.

"How is it that you were sorted into Slytherin?" Sirius wondered, his eyes still on Easton.

"Who knows," she managed to utter ever so quietly, "maybe there is something snaky in me and I just haven't realized it yet."

"I doubt it." Sirius smiled at her, and Easton only hoped that he couldn't see her cheeks grow burning red in response. "I feel kind of stupid right now, to be honest."

"W-why?"

"Because we only met now, in the last year. So many lost pranking opportunities," he sighed in genuine regret. "Only imagine what we could've done together? You could've been our agent on the inside, delivering all the dirty snaky secrets."

Easton laughed, but then something hit her and her lips grew into a mischievous grin.

"What's that?" Sirius asked, catching the sudden change in the girl.

"It's only October," she reminded him. "We still have the whole school year ahead of us."


	7. ABBA kind of girl

**A/N: GAAAH SO MANY REVIEWS, GUYS! MERLIN! I'm so so sooo glad that you're liking the story so far! Can't wait for you to see what happens next! *sinister laughter* (Just kidding. Or am I?)**

 **Ok, so this a bit of a 'filler' chapter. It's short and isn't really important for the plot but I really wanted to write some SiriusxEaston interaction, so there's that! The next few chapters will be longer and a tad darker...**

 **Hope you'll enjoy!xxx**

 **P.S If you're interested in how I picture Sirius and Easton: for me, the perfect young Sirius is Timothée Chalamet and Easton I picture as Saoirse Ronan** **in the "Lady Bird")**

"D'YOU RECKON WE COULD GO to The Rolling Stones concert this summer?" Penelope mused, her nose stuck in another magazine while the two girls were climbing the stairs back to the castle after the Care of Magical Creatures.

"I don't know, Pens, depends on my parents," Easton replied distantly, her mind busy with what had happened the previous night.

She'd talked to Sirius Black. Not _about_ him, not _next_ to him, _with_ him. And she had flirted. Why did she do that!?

"It sucks that we can't even play music here," whined Penelope. "My parents got me a Walkman for my birthday and I can't even use it! I thought magic was supposed to be fun."

Surely it had been all the sugar, because never in her right mind would she have done that.

 _Merlin, what if he decides to take me up on that offer?_

"I mean, I bought the complete ABBA album that I won't get to enjoy until Christmas–are you even listening to me?"

 _What is wrong with me?_

"Tony!"

Easton jumped from the loudness and blinked rapidly at her very angry friend.

"Have you heard a word I've said?" Easton made a 'sorry I didn't listen but I still love you' face, but it didn't really work on Penelope.

"Some friend you are," she huffed. "What's up with you today anyway? You're all pensive and whatever, I don't like it."

Tony stopped in her tracks. "Are you implying that I tend _not_ to think?"

"Not so much you don't," Penny replied as they continued their way. "Anyways, if we are not allowed to play music, we can create it ourselves," she declared.

"Penny, no—"

"—Remember that song we danced to this summer, on my birthday?"

"How can I not? As soon as it came out you said you'd play it on your seventeenth birthday but, Penny—"

" _You are the dancing queen—_ "

"—oh Merlin—"

" _Young and sweet; Only seventeen_ ," Penelope started singing, swinging her hips intime. " _Dancing queen_ —Come on, Tony, sing along!"

Easton tried to get out of Penny's grip and escape the embarrassment but she knew her best friend too well to think that this would work. So she didn't fight for long.

" _Feel the beat from the tambourine, oh yeah_ ," Easton joined in with her low and a bit husky voice that could barely take the high notes, and made the lines sound like a cry for grabbed Easton by the arm, preparing for the best part. " _You can dance! You can jive! Having the time of your life_ ," they sang–or more like screamed–together.

" _Ooh, see that girl_ ," Penelope narrowed her eyes, flipped her hair and pointed a finger at Easton.

" _Watch that sc_ —"

"Hey there, Greengrass!"

Her eyes widened at the sight of him but it was too late to retreat. And so she tried to wave at him. And she did. But she also stumbled. And then fell. Right on her sorry arse.

"Merlin, Tony!" Penny hurried to help her up. "Are you alright?"

Easton quickly looked up to see if Sirius had noticed the humiliating fiasco, but the Marauders were already nearing the castle.

"Yeah, m'alright," she grumbled, dusting the dirt off her robes.

Penelope's face changed in a matter of seconds and turned from that of concern into that of rage. "You better be because I'm about to kill you for not telling me WHY THE HELL SIRIUS BLOODY BLACK SAID BLOODY " _HEY THERE, GREENGRASS_ " to you!" she yelled in her best Sirius Black impression, while simultaneously attacking Easton with punches that were surprisingly hard and aggressive for a little Hufflepuff.

"OW, stop it—OUCH, that really hurt! Hey, Penny, really—"

"Serves you right!" She punctuated each word with a punch.

"So do you—OW—want me to tell you or do you—STOP—want to keep hitting me?" Easton shielded herself from the Hufflepuff with both arms.

"I can't decide, give me a second—"

"HEY!"

"Alright, I'm done," Penny sighed, exhausted by her vigorous assault, and stepped away.

Easton eyed her with suspicion.

"Really, I am. You're safe," Penelope assured.

"Can we go now?"

And so the two friends continued their climb to the castle, where they quickly found a private spot to gossip in an alcove behind one of the tapestries. Easton told Penny everything—from the conversation she'd had with Sirius (although it was hardly a conversation, seeing as 'a conversation' demanded two people to actually talk) after which she received another much-deserved punch. Every now and then Penny would let out an excited squeak or stare at Easton in utter disbelief. By the end of the story, Penelope's jaw was practically reaching the floor.

"You're telling me," she began slowly, "that you spent the night with Sirius Black and didn't even try to shag him?"

Easton wanted, she really wanted, to think that the question was a joke, but Penelope looked dead serious.

"Erm...no?"

It took the Hufflepuff some time to truly take in this information.

"You are no friend of mine," Penny then spat and made to leave the alcove but then suddenly paused. "You didn't even snog him?" she asked in astonishment.

"What—No!"

Penelope looked as if Easton had betrayed her in the most horrible way possible.

"Goodbye, friend."

"Penelope, stop it!" Easton ran after her.

Penny saluted without slowing her pace. "Our friendship is over!"

"Oh, for Merlin's sake! What are you, five?"

It went on for an embarrassingly long time.

"How did you get into NEWT level Charms again?"

Easton wasn't really offended by this question, for she knew that Lily Evans was genuinely curious. And that curiosity was more than justifiable.

"No idea," Easton shrugged, practicing—or rather trying to practice—a fifth year's spell wand motions, "I'm always on the verge of complete failure but somehow manage to stay afloat. I think it irritates the hell out of all the professors and, to be honest, I can't say I don't love it."

Lily only laughed at her silly quips and opened the book. "Do you have any specific spells you want to practice? Any incantations?"

"Lily, I don't even know what it is I don't know," Easton deadpanned. "Like seriously, I'm not even joking—"

"Did someone call for me?"

"Oh no," Lily almost whined, her face the grimace of pain at the sound of the voice.

 _Oh no_ , Easton groaned internally.

"I certainly heard something, Pads," mused another voice that caused Lily to tighten her grip on the Charms book.

"Okay, Easton," she began way too loudly. Evans tried to compose herself and ignore the sounds but wasn't doing a great job at it; Easton noticed her left eye almost twitch in anger. The whole image was rather scary, really. "We can start with—"

"Is it truly her or do my eyeglasses fail me?" James Potter exclaimed dramatically.

"It sure is, Prongs," agreed Sirius Black. "A fine sight indeed."

 _Oh boy, it won't end well._

"Lily—"

"How about we practice hexes, Easton? I could think of a great guinea pig—"

"—I don't know if that's wise—"

"Oh, Evans, I found you at last!" Potter threw himself on the chair opposite the two girls and cupped his face in his hands, directing his dreamy hazel eyes at the red-haired witch. "Did you miss me as much as I missed you?"

Easton concentrated all her attention on her wand, trying to get the hang of the movements and miserably failing because of a certain Marauder. Why did he have to be here? She'd managed to pass through almost all stages of grief and live with the idea that the 'Nighttime Rendezvous' had been nothing but a dream. This unfortunate encounter set her at least two steps back.

"Potter," Lily was almost shaking with anger, "don't you have any Head Boy duties?"

"I'm waiting for you to guide me like the brightest star in the sky—"

"Hey!" Sirius looked positively hurt.

"—Sorry, mate—"

For a mere second Easton pulled her eyes away from the wand to glance at Sirius and instantly regretted her curiosity, for he had caught her peeking at him and...winked?

Absolutely not expecting this turn of events, Easton got ridiculously flustered and in her anxious attempts to pull herself together, lost the grip of the wand entirely. The piece of wood fell on the table with a dull thud.

Easton froze.

"S-sorry," she forced out a tight smile and slowly picked up the wand.

But no one seemed to have noticed that, except for Sirius, of course, who grinned at her knowingly. The wanker.

"Easton," Lily barked.

"Y-yes?"

"Easton, I think we've covered enough today," she exclaimed fiercely, looking anywhere but at James. "Do you mind if we call it a day?"

"S-sure, but Lily—"

"Great!" She quickly stuffed all her belongings into the bag and got up from the table. "Have a nice day!" Lily made a point of throwing a deathly glare at Potter before she stormed out of the library.

Which left Easton...

"That was," Sirius looked at the grandfather clock that proudly stood in the library, "two minutes, Prongs. New record!" He lounged in the chair as if he owned the whole place. And oh, dear, was that a sight. Easton tried to keep her eyes off him, she honestly did, and yet once again found herself staring. Easton wished there was a better name for it but there wasn't. She was staring at him. Penelope would call it 'eye-fucking', the perverted little Hufflepuff she was.

Shamelessly and with a hunger of a starved pilgrim, Easton was slowly scanning his shaggy raven hair which fell into his face, the robes which looked as if he had half-heartedly put them on after a quick shag in a broom closet (which quite possibly was the truth). And the way the first few buttons of his white shirt were undone leaving so much more to her pure virgin imagination...

"Hey, Greengrass, what do you think?"

And he talks.

As if on cue, Easton's cheeks flared up and she was positive it didn't escape Sirius's attention. Nothing ever did, as far as she could tell from the years of crushing on him.

"Sorry?" she asked in a croaky voice. Why the bloody hell was her voice so croaky?

"You're a girl," James pointed out as if it was a great revelation.

"Well, I'd like to think so, yes," Easton started fidgeting with the wand, looking between the two Marauders and at the same time trying to escape direct eye-contact with Sirius.

James she could handle, though he, too, was devilishly handsome with his cute and dorky personality, but there was this roughness and boldness to Sirius that almost dared you to do something stupid in front of him. Which wasn't a difficult task for Easton, who did something stupid on a daily basis. Her life just wasn't complete without stupid. It was a universal rule.

"As a representative of the other half of humanity, would you say that our ickle Jamesie here," Sirius ruffled James's hair which made the latter jerk away and glare at his dear friend, "—has any chance of wooing Evans?" Sirius's brows jumped suggestively on the second to last word.

Easton couldn't really properly hear what he was saying all because there was that little sound in her head, a voice even, screaming why the hell hadn't she left when she had the chance.

It probably had a point, come to think of it.

"Erm...I—well...y-you see," Easton mumbled.

James was looking at her expectedly with such hope in his eyes that it pained her to disappoint him. However, there was very little Easton could say to help the bloke. It's not like she was a relationship guru, seeing as the only time her life took a romantic turn was in a muggle park when a boy had so gallantly presented little Easton with a flower. Or was it a weed? She couldn't tell back then. Not that she could now.

"I m-mean, there's always a c-chance..."

Clearly, it was all James needed to hear, because his face instantly broke into a toothy grin.

"Told you, Pads!" he exclaimed victoriously and jumped off his seat. "She'll come 'round, just you wait!"

Easton wanted to tell him to keep it quiet, but Madam Pince's murderous scowl did it for her and was a thousand times more effective too, for Potter instantly shut up and toned it down.

"Evans is probably in the common room," James mused, and pushed his glasses back up his nose. "I'll go check on her!" he whispered excitedly and ran out of the library stumbling with every step in his eagerness.

And then there were two.

Easton wanted to volunteer to kill herself right then and there, but Sirius didn't let her. "Poor Evans, she has no idea what's coming her way," he laughed.

Was she supposed to say something? What was she supposed to say?

Unfortunately, her panicked brain didn't have any more time to think—suddenly Sirius leaned on the table, his face moving closer to hers. "So tell me, Greengrass," he drawled mischievously. Easton just sat there, absolutely speechless, blinking at him. "What's your favorite muggle band?"

Having lost any ability to talk, Easton just raised her brows in surprise. What was he driving at?

"I'll just take a guess then," Sirius's wicked smile and that devilish glint in his stormy eyes made her stomach flip. "Is it the Zombies? Pink Floyd? Queen, maybe? No? Alright...Beatles then? Wait," he leaned back a little, deep in thought, which gave Easton an opportunity to breathe. "I think I know what it is," his smile grew with each guess, as did Easton's confusion. "It's a wild one but could it be...ABBA?"

 _Oh no he didn't._

Easton knew there was no limit to perfection but sincerely hoped that this rule didn't spread on other things; things like embarrassment. She liked to think that once you'd reached what you thought was the pits of it, it couldn't get any worse.

Apparently, she was wrong.

And Sirius Black doubled in laughter in front of her, trying to keep it down to avoid Madam Pince's wrath, was the perfect proof.

"You have a beautiful voice, I'll give you that. And the way you take those high notes," he looked into the distance and sighed, as if there was not a word worthy enough to properly describe the wonder that was her singing. "One day you'll give Miss Warbeck a run for her money, missy, you mark my words." Now he sounded like her old grandfather Greengrass with a cigar in his mouth.

It was sheer luck that her wand didn't break, because instead of directing all her anger at Sirius, who totally deserved to be hexed, Easton was assaulting the poor wooden stick. It took all of her willpower to finally stop fumbling with it and start packing her things, all the while fuming with rage.

"Greengrass?"

She couldn't hate Sirius. Or could she? No, he was Sirius. No one in their right mind hated Sirius. Except for all the poor souls he had hexed. And all the Slytherins. And probably some more people.

"Hey," the subject of all her thoughts finally stopped laughing; he sounded a bit guilty now. "I'm sorry, I was insensitive. See, Remus -my personal moral compass- gives me a subtle kick whenever I'm being an arse but he's not here right now so I'm kind of lost."

Easton liked that he was trying to explain himself to her. But she still didn't say a word, didn't even look at him and threw the bag over her shoulder.

"Right, I was a complete arse," Sirius admitted. "Your singing's really good though, Greengrass, I'm not kidd—hey, Greengrass!"

But she was already walking away. With a smile on her face.


	8. Riddle me that

**A/N: I'm baaaack, witches! Sorry for the wait, the week's been absolutely hectic with all the uni work. To be honest, I wanted to post this chapter yesterday but it was unedited, and I was...well a was a lazy arse**

 **Hope you'll enjoy it! Oh, and thank you all for your comments, guys, they really keep me going**

"NO"

"Come on! You didn't even—"

"Absolutely not," Easton kept walking with Penelope following her like a newborn hippogriff.

She groaned in exasperation., "Why are you always like this?"

The Hufflepuff had almost bumped into Easton when she suddenly stopped.

"Like what?" her blue eyes were murderous, left brow lifted as if daring Penny to continue.

And she did. Sometimes Easton wondered why she hadn't been sorted into Gryffindor instead, for Penelope Abbott was thick-headed, opinionated and, for the lack of a better word, an attention whore. "Pretty please?" she pouted.

"I am not talking to Andrew for you," Easton fumed and continued her path to the Wooden Bridge.

"But you know him, you can…"

"No."

"Please! I'll do anything!"

Easton took out a worn out sketchbook from her bag. "I don't need anything," she simply replied.

"I'll do your Herbology homework for a month!"

She gave Penny an unimpressed side glance. "You suck at Herbology."

Penelope opened her mouth to object but then closed it because, well, it was true. They were both pants at studying. It was one of the many things that had brought them together in the first place.

With a dramatic sigh worthy of a broadway diva, she lowered her eyes and whispered, "I have nothing to offer."

Ignoring her friend's dramatics, Easton took hold of her very muggle pencil and started sketching the view from the bridge. It had always mesmerised her, and every single year she came out here to try and capture the beauty of the foggy Scottish hills.

"If I push too hard it's because I want things to be better," Penelope almost cried.

It didn't take Easton long to recognize the words. Her pencil stopped millimeters from touching the paper as she slowly turned her head to face the blond. "I want us to be better. I want _you_ to be better," Penelope solemnly declared.

"Are you seriously quoting Barbara Streisand at me?"

Penny broke her miserable act and cracked a smile. "Is it working?"

"No."

"Easton!" she whined, "don't be such a wench!"

"I can't help it, Penny," Easton smiled sarcastically at her. "I'm a Slytherin, you see."

They both stood in the middle of the massive bridge, Easton with a sketchbook in her hands, Penelope following her with a constant pout of a five-year-old. Easton gave a long and thoughtful look to the magnificent view that stretched before them and brought a pencil to the paper, starting with a few gentle strokes.

Penny's face, devoid of a iota of happiness, morphed into a grimace of confusion.

"Again? You're drawing this shit again?"

"I sure am," Easton drawled in a surprisingly good American accent.

"Why are you—"

Easton let out an almost animalistic growl and glared at Penelope. "I'll talk to Andrew if you sod off and leave me alone, deal?"

Her friend's face instantly lit up with a bright smile as she reached to hug Easton, but the latter quickly jumped away, barely managing to escaping the torture. "Thank you, thank you, than—"

"GO AWAY." The blood-curdling yell seemed to bring Penelope to her senses, and the Hufflepuff slowly started retreating to the West Wing, an elated smile still on her face. " _Thank you_ " she mouthed, but Easton only dismissed her with a middle finger and returned to the sketch.

Easton walked the corridors, desperately trying to warm herself by rubbing her numb palms together and then breathing on her hands to bring them to life. She had spent nearly an hour drawing in the cold with only a scarf and a set of thin robes, which definitely had taken its toll. However, it had been worth it, Easton decided, for she had managed a decent drawing.

It was in that elegant state that Easton met face to face with her beloved sister. The happy and rather unexpected family reunion took place near the Grand Staircase, where Josefine was heading to the Ravenclaw common room. Easton still couldn't understand why in the world the Sorting Hat had put her sister into the House that prided itself on having the most academically gifted students, when Josefine was anything but. And Easton had been sorted into Slytherin. Go figure.

"What are you doing here?" Josefine asked, her perfectly arched brows furrowed.

"Well hello to you too, Josie, it's ever so nice to meet each other in the castle that we both happen to be studying at," Easton's voice was dripping with venomous sarcasm that had clearly gone unappreciated by her little sister. Josefine always had a hard time understanding Easton's jokes. Or any human emotion for that matter. Easton made as if to leave.

"Wait," Josefine stopped and turned to Easton, irritation evident in her almond-shaped brown eyes. "Has mother told you about Christmas?"

"You mean the party? Yes, of course she did," she scoffed at the obviousness of this, "I can hardly wait for the next Hogsmeade trip to buy a new dress," and then suddenly became extremely serious and suspicious. "Why?"

Easton knew it was a long shot—trying to get through to her sister—but nevertheless hoped that just this once Josefine would at least try to listen. "Doesn't it worry you one bit?"

"Should it?"

 _Yeah, that's pretty much it._

"Did mother...care to share the "guest list" with you by any chance?"

Josefine thought hard for a minute. It never took her longer.

"Evan told me the Rosiers were coming, oh and the Malfoys, and...and someone else," she furrowed her perfect brows again, which made Easton worry that Josie would truly overexert herself. "I don't remember really. Why are you so interested anyway?"

 _The Rosiers and the Malfoys_ , Easton thought with a scoff; _wouldn't be surprised if Father's invited all his Slytherin buddies. What a great school reunion indeed: a spot of black magic, one blood sacrifice and an innocent virgin for dessert—classic_.

"Well there's your answer, Josie."

"I don't get it."

 _Of course you don't_.

"Josie, have you read the Prophet lately?"

"Oh no, it's too gruesome," Josefine wrinkled her elfin nose, "with all those headlines, sweet Salazar..."

Easton quirked a brow at the exclamation.

"You realise you're in Ravenclaw, right?"

"Yes. So?"

She opened her mouth to give a full explanation but then decided against it, for it was a battle already lost.

Easton sighed in defeat, only now feeling the weight of the day coming down on her. "Just...be careful, Josie, alright?"

What followed, she absolutely had not anticipated.

"Why are you so nice?" Josefine screeched, sounding almost offended, "don't you dare being nice! If you're nice than I'll have to be nice and I really don't want to be nice, especially right now. So...so stop it!"

Easton was taken aback by the little fit of spoiled hysterical ego-mania, and could only manage a slight nod. "Right," she said, unsure how to react, and then looked her sister in the eye, imploring her to listen,."Still, do be careful, Jo. I'm not kidding. Malfoys, Lestranges, Mulcibers—they're dark, the lot of them, okay? They—"

"Are those really my two favorite cousins?"

Easton felt her face pale and legs turn to wobbly jelly at the sound of that voice.

"What a treat!"

Josefine, however, instantly brightened at the sight of her favorite family member. "Evan!" she smiled as if Easton hadn't been trying to warn her against the evil spawn this whole time. Said evil spawn, in his turn, looked as smug as ever in his immaculate robes with a shiny Prefect's badge pinned against his chest and a devilish grin plastered on his pointy face.

Easton couldn't help but wonder if Evan had overheard her conversation with Josefine. She nervously bit her lip, trying to shake off the eerie feeling she got every time he stood nearby and suddenly caught the Rosier heir looking directly at her with the smile that most girls found charming; the same smile that made her want to simultaneously vomit and run as far away as possible.

"...are you, Easton?"

Apparently, she'd blacked out for a bit.

"Am I what?

Josefine threw her a disdainful glare and then looked to Evan with nothing short of pure admiration.

"She is," she replied curtly.

Evan looked thrilled by the answer, and Easton really didn't like it. She also wasn't quite happy about being the center of discussion when she had absolutely no idea what it was about.

"That is simply wonderful, Easton," exclaimed Evan looking like the cat who got the cream. Or the canary.

Easton seriously needed to keep up with that conversation because oh boy, she really didn't like the look in her cousin's eyes.

"Hey, Josie, do you mind if I borrow your sister for a while?" Easton could feel his hand gripping her upper arm rather gently and tried to suppress the anxiety that was building up in her chest.

"Oh, please do," Josefine laughed in a very sophisticated pureblood-ish manner that made her look awfully like their Mother, paying no heed to the grimace of complete horror on her sister's face.

The next thing Easton knew, Evan's grip was no longer gentle but painfully barbaric; it would surely leave marks on her arm, which wasn't something she was unused to. Being a rebellious teen in a Greengrass household taught Easton to take a punch and then another, and with time she had perfected the art of Concealment Charms (Lily was surprised to see that Easton knew at least those).

Evan was dragging her down the corridor like a duffle bag, and Easton was finding it somewhat hard to keep up with his pace without stumbling.

"In here," he barked and shoved her into a broom cupboard, promptly shutting the door behind them.

Easton could hear her heartbeat echoing in her head while she stood, plastered to a wall, not daring to move in an endless wait for what Evan would do next. Which she absolutely hadn't expected to be a laugh. Albeit a merciless, cold and blood-curdling kind of laugh.

"Tinsy, Tinsy, Tinsy." He spoke in a manner one would reprimand a little child, shaking his head in disappointment.

Easton was eyeing Evan like a terrified lamb watching out for a ravenous predator who would come at her at any moment. "You're making it really hard for me to look out for you, do you know that?" Rosier came a little closer, towering over her. His proximity made her tilt her head to the left a little, eyes still locked on him. "With that chatty mouth of yours... you've got to be careful. You never know who might be dropping eaves, little cousin."

 _Oh buggering bloody fuck._

"It wasn't a lie though, now was it?" She finally found some courage to speak up, her voice unsteady, "what I said. With all of you being—"

"Tut-tut, Tinsy, don't disappoint me."

Easton scoffed at the remark and received a scathing glare in return. "You don't suppose I'm so daft as to think that this Christmas party is nothing but a merry little reunion, right?" she narrowed her eyes at Evan.

"Now aren't you a little Auror in the making?" he sneered. "Fret not, ickle Tinsy, soon enough you'll see it for yourself. Just don't go around declaring your silly assumptions for the whole school to hear, will you?"

Easton knew he was ready to dismiss her. She could tell it by the way his stance was no longer threatening and the way his dull eyes bore no hatred but the usual irritation that was certainly mutual. And everything would've ended right there and then, had she not spoken again, "Or _Lord Voldemort_ is going to come for me, is that right, Evan?"

He stilled for a moment, just looking at her as if deciding what to do next. Kill her? Torture her? Both?

"Or should I say Tom Riddle?" Easton said with a mocking smile, enjoying the way way Evan's eyes widened in surprise. "Yes, I've read grandfather's diaries, Evan, I know who he is. In fact, I know more than I let on about your little fan club of psycho groupies. How did you get the membership, ha? Kill a muggle or two? One of those families reported to be murdered in their own—"

"Shut up, Easton—"

"I will not!" she yelled, amazed by her own fierceness. "How can you do it, Evan? Don't you realize it is one thing to be a bigoted arsehole and quite another being a bloody murderer?"

Evan, however, truly looked the part right now: his jaws clenched tightly, nostrils flaring with rage, eyes dark and ruthless.

"If you know what's good for you, Easton, you're going to shut your mouth and never—and I repeat for that little brain of yours—never disgrace the Dark Lord's name again."

Easton smiled. "You should know by now that I clearly don't know what's good for me, Evan. You can play your little Death Eater game all you want but you're going to lose, all of you. The world you know is going to crumble, and your Dark Lord will leave all of you useless puppets to suffer the aftermath of his demise—"

The sound of a slap knifed through the palpable tension of the small cupboard room. Easton instantly pressed a hand to her right cheek, feeling it burn under her palm—there was a little blood on her chin, blood he had pulled from a split lip.

She didn't make a single sound. Easton only lifted her eyes at Evan with cold indifference to show him that he hadn't hurt her. He never could. None of them did.

"You're a disgrace to our family" spat Evan, and suddenly gripped her by the collar of her robes, pulling her closer as easily as if she were a doll. Easton held his eyes defiantly, though she could feel tears pricking in her eyes. She wouldn't cry in front of him. She couldn't.

"If I hear any more nonsense from you, it'll be more than just a slap, Tinsy. Hope we're in the clear," he let go of her abruptly, and Easton almost tripped, her knees too weak to keep her standing. Luckily she was quick enough to grab onto one of the shelves to steady herself. "It was rather unpleasant," Evan grumbled and rubbed the hand he'd slapped her with.

" _Fuck you_ , Evan," spit Easton.

Evan chuckled as if she'd just told him the funniest joke and opened the cupboard door, letting cold air into the stuffed room.

"Behave, little cousin," he winked at her as he left, leaving the door open wide.

Anyone could see Easton leaning against the shelves, her robes disheveled, hair looking like a Fwooper nest and now tears streaming down her cheeks, burning her skin like a branding iron, forever staining it with shame.

She hated it. All of it.

But most of all she hated herself for being so helpless and useless in the war that'd been raging right under her nose all those years. She hated that her family—the people who were supposed to support and love her—regarded her as a blood traitor. It stung, yes, despite the fact that she was proud of what stood behind that name.

And yet some part of her, the part that was naive enough to believe in familial bonds, that little girl, who wanted her father to smile back at her and her mother to put her silly drawings on the refrigerator like Penelope's did, wanted to fit in. Wanted to feel included.

And here she was, a traitor to her own family and an enemy to the rest.

Easton used to think it was badass. Now she simply felt...lonely.

Easton closed the cupboard door again and waited another fifteen minutes for the classes to begin, so that she could get to the dorms unseen by the other students. What a treat it would've been for them, to see a crying Slytherin with a broken lip and a handprint bright on her cheek! The Gryffindors alone would've been ecstatic.

Brushing her hair, that now hung a little past her shoulders, with her fingers to make herself look a tiny bit more presentable, Easton then swept away the tears with the back of her hand and stepped into the corridor with a deep sigh. She was already late for Herbology, she figured, and ever so selflessly decided not to interrupt the lesson. In reality, Easton couldn't care less about the subject. She was going to drop it anyway.

Walking back to the Entrance Hall, she looked around to make sure the coast was clear and made for the dungeons, when suddenly a barking laughter echoed through the cold stone of the majestic walls. She knew that laughter. It used to make her insides twirl, used to turn her into 'a daft Ravenclaw bimbo' as Penelope had so kindly put it. But now all Easton felt was fear.

She couldn't be seen. Not like this.

Panic was paralyzing every part of her body and brain, apparently, as Easton continued standing in the middle of the hall, helplessly looking around for a way to escape.

 _The staircase!_

Just as she'd seemingly found a perfect sanctuary for her sorry arse under the Grand Staircase, where only minutes ago she'd shared a sweet conversation with her dear sister, the laughter got louder. So, so, so loud...

"Easton?"

She grimaced in embarrassment without facing him.

"Greengrass!" Sirius called with the usual cheerfulness and then added to his friend in an angry whisper, "Just wait a minute, Wormtail, will ya? Circe, so impatient. Hey, alright, Greengrass?"

Seeing no possible ways of escaping this encounter, Easton tried her best to cover her face with her hair and finally turned around to face the music. Sirius was smiling at her brightly in all his rogue-ish glory, and next to him stood a short chubby fellow with downy dull-blonde hair and beady watery eyes that were regarding her with surprising scorn.

"Hello, Sirius," she waved at them weakly, hoping that they wouldn't come closer. She wouldn't be able to hide her war wounds then.

"Why aren't you in Herbology?" asked Sirius, smiling playfully. "Not skipping by any chance, are you?"

Easton couldn't help but grin back at him but just as her lips stretched, she winced from a stinging pain.

"Are you okay?"

 _Fuck._

"Yeah, perfectly," Easton dismissed unconvincingly, stifling the pain in her newly reopened lip, "I—I have to go though, was nice—"

"Wormtail, tell James I'll be there in a bit, okay?" she heard Sirius instruct his friend.

 _Oh, hell no._

Easton headed to the dungeons with a newfound energy before Sirius could stop her, but she had no business playing races with a Gryffindor Beater. That's why he'd caught up with her in only three steps and took her lightly by the upper arm. By sheer instinct Easton tore away, wincing at the pain once again, and Sirius most definitely noticed that.

"What happened, Easton?" he asked, voice no longer cheerful nor playful.

Easton turned away, hiding behind her hair as if it were a curtain. But Sirius knew better and reached for her chin, gently taking it between his thumb and index finger to make her face him.

"Fucking hell—who...who the fuck did that, Easton?"

The evident pity in his eyes made her sick. Easton couldn't bear seeing Sirius Black look at her like that. Anyone but him.

He was the one part of her life that had nothing to do with her crazy family, the beautiful eye-candy that brought her joy and made her school days seem bearable. He didn't know who she was, and she loved it.

Now it was ruined. She didn't even have that.

Easton jumped away from Sirius, his soft fingers slipping from her face. She missed the feeling of him touching her. But then, who wouldn't?

"No one," she snapped. "I fell, everyone knows what a klutz I am."

The skeptical look Sirius was giving her clearly meant he didn't take her bullshit seriously.

"You aren't going to tell me then," he concluded with a sigh. "I can respect that. But it doesn't mean it isn't stupid."

Easton was a bit taken aback by his reaction. "Right," she nodded, puzzled.

"At least let me take you to the Hospital Wing—"

"I'm fine, really—"

"Your lip is bleeding—"

"I can take some blood, I'm not a sissy—"

"I didn't say you were I just—"

"Yeah right," she huffed and tried to smile again, which was a bad idea, "we should probably stop interrupting each other."

Sirius chuckled, "we probably should."

And then Easton noticed that he wasn't wearing his school robes. And that he was, in fact, skipping Herbology, too. That sneaky bastard.

However, Easton had to admit that a tight white muggle shirt and a pair of black jeans looked insanely sexy on him. Complemented by his shaggy raven hair and a shadow of stubble on his face, Sirius looked like one of the bad boys from the American movies she and Penny loved so much.

"Heading somewhere?" Easton asked, eyeing him suspiciously.

"More like from somewhere. The boys and I have go—em, we were erm, we were at Hagrid's, a nice little lad he is," he blabbered. Sirius Black blabbered.

Wasn't it her job?

Easton let out a soft chuckle. "He might be nice, however, I wouldn't be so sure about 'little'."

Sirius let out a slightly shaky laugh, his hand reaching to ruffle his hair. Easton used to do that when she was nervous. Interesting.

"I'm going to go then," she said.

"You sure you're alright and there's nothing you—"

"One hundred and fifty percent positive," she nodded suppressing a smile.

"There's no such—"

Easton rolled her eyes and huffed. "Bugger off, I failed Arithmancy. See you around, Sirius".

 _Do not smile, you fucking moron._

"Se ya, Greengrass," he winked, giving her a mock salute from his brow and headed for the Courtyard.

Maybe Easton didn't feel so lonely after all.


	9. The Shining

**A/N: Hi guys! I can't thank you enough for your follows and faves, it trully is so rewarding to know that someone out there enjoys your work!**

 **So here's another chapter, I hope you'll like it, for it is the result of my complete lack of attention during lectures lol** **This is the longest one yet, and I think that the later chapters will be pretty much the same length, maybe longer.**

 **Merlin, I just love writing Sirius, he's such an interesting character to develop. And he seems to have so much in common with Easton, don't you think?**

 **Anyways, here's the chapter!**

THERE WERE MOMENTS IN EASTON GREENGRASS'S LIFE when she often doubted her sanity. Of course, she knew there was always a chance she was actually bonkers, thanks to the centuries of inbreeding, but the possibility had never been so painfully real than it was at this very minute when she sat in the Courtyard, witnessing the epitome of impossible—Penelope flirting with Andrew Hopkins and, what was even more bizarre, him actually doing it back.

Now Easton wasn't a bad friend, per se; she was without a doubt happy that Penelope had finally dipped her toes into the deep waters of passion and romance. What Easton wasn't particularly elated about was where it left her.

Thick silvery snowflakes danced around in the air like tiny ballerinas, falling gracefully to the ground to coat it in a soft pearly blanket that glistened under the rays of the cold winter sun. It was early December outside and, seeing as it was the last Hogsmeade weekend before Christmas, the Hogwarts students were more eager than ever to leave the castle.

Usually Easton would join in with the fun, as winter was her favorite time of the year (mostly because it led to a Christmas that she would usually spend with the Abbotts and very much away from her family). Right now, however, she hated everything about it.

Hogsmeade trips were something both Penelope and Easton enjoyed immensely ever since third year, getting a chance to finally leave the castle and have a little fun. They would buy loads of candy from Honeydukes, mercilessly stuff their bellies with food at the Three Broomsticks and then laugh their arses off exploring the weirdest things Zonko's had to offer. However, Easton had an inkling that it wouldn't be the case this time.

Her fears were confirmed when Penelope had caught her looking and hastily whispered something to her newfound lover. She then smiled at him and squeezed his hand before making her way to Easton.

"Hey, d—"

"Have fun with him."

"What?" Penny asked, her cheeks turning pink from having been exposed.

Easton sighed heavily, as if giving an explanation was an unbearable burden. "You're here to tell me that Andrew's asked you to go to Hogsmeade with him, and seeing as there's no way you turned him down, you now feel guilty for ditching me. Don't," she assured Penny, who looked like she was about to cry. "I wanted to stay and study for that Transfiguration exam anyway, so you did me a favour really."

She also wanted to have a good time in Hogsmeade but Penelope didn't have to know that.

"You?" Penny scoffed in disbelief, "Study for an exam?"

"A bird has to start someday," Easton shrugged and picked up her school bag to return to the castle. "Just buy me some quills will you? I've broken all of them yesterday when Evans was trying to teach me the Doubling Charm."

It was partially true, save for one tiny detail, which was Easton having burned them. Suffice to say, she hadn't perfected the charm yet and doubted she ever would.

"You really don't mind?" Penelope winced and bit her bottom lip.

"I mind that I have to study," Easton mused with a fake laugh, "I only envy your dim arse that you'll finally get a Hogsmeade date-and-snog," her brows jumped suggestively which made Penelope turn almost scarlet.

"Shut up, you bint," she hissed, though there was a sly smile tagging on her lips. "He may not even kiss me," Penny threw a glance at Andrew, who stood dutifully waiting for his new girlfriend like a good little crup.

"Oh he will, why else would a bloke spend a galleon at Madam Puddifoot's?"

Penelope kicked Easton in the shoulder for the crudeness, her eyes narrowed. "How do you know where he'll take me?"

"Please," Easton rolled her eyes. "He's totally a Puddiguy."

Penny actually laughed at that. "A 'Puddiguy'?"

Easton looked dead serious. "Yes, that's exactly what I said."

"When'd you come up with that?" Penelope chuckled.

"It's a thing, Penny, Circe, do try to keep up," Easton huffed with mock irritation.

"Oh, get stuffed," Penelope dismissed with a laugh.

Easton smiled.

"About to. With _knowledge_."

For the lack of anything better do to, with everyone else enjoying themselves in Hogsmeade, Easton did, in fact, go to the library.

It wasn't like Easton didn't like reading. On the contrary, she rather enjoyed muggle classic novels and historical non-fiction, which fascinated her the most. However, she had no interest in Potions, Transfiguration or anything magic-related whatsoever. Unlike Lily, who was a muggleborn and thus continuously fascinated by all things magical, Easton was simply tired of them. In fact, she wouldn't mind leading a very muggle life by attending high school, getting wasted at parties and worrying about college applications.

Easing a worn out edition of "The Shining" from her school bag, Easton settled in the little corner between the Restricted and the Potions sections. She leaned against the bookshelves, bent her knees and placed the book on her thighs for a more comfortable reading experience. She was humming one of the Zombies songs, her right foot dancing in the air to keep time. Back at home Easton loved to listen to music while reading to completely zone out and not hear her mother screeching at the poor house elves. Here, however, she just had to make do.

"Easton?"

The quiet voice made her look up from the book to see Remus Lupin standing sheepishly in the aisle.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt..."

"You're not," Easton reassured him with a soft smile. Whenever she saw Remus, she felt the urge to tell him that everything would be okay and to just give him a good, warm hug.

"Reading up on Potions?" he pointed at the book in her hands.

Easton huffed, "Yeah, Slughorn wishes. It's a muggle book," she quickly showed him the cover.

Remus's brows rose a little in surprise, "The Shining?"

Easton nodded. "Have you read it?"

"Yeah, a while back. Loved it," he smiled, still awkwardly standing in the aisle.

"Do you want me to?..." Easton trailed unsurely standing up before Remus stopped her with a simple hand gesture, completely horror-struck.

"N-no, no, don't leave, if anyone's intruding, it's me. You know, I'm just gonna—"

"Remus, it's okay—"

"—I'll just grab a book and be on my way," he fussed.

"I don't mind your company, truly. It's a bit scary to be alone in this wretched castle, to be honest," she chuckled good-naturedly. It seemed to convince Remus enough to stop worrying.

"Why did you stay in by the way? I saw your friend in Hogsmeade when I was heading back," he asked nonchalantly, stepping closer to the bookshelves to search for the book he needed.

"I have an exam to study for."

Remus looked at her matter-of-factly. "You're reading a muggle book."

"I said I had to study for it, I didn't say I would," Easton shrugged and returned to her reading, flipping the page.

The sandy-haired boy shook his head at her antics, chuckling quietly and finally pulled out a Potions book from the shelf. And then he just continued standing there.

Easton tried not to pay attention to his gangly figure but it was getting harder with each passing second, with Remus continuously throwing quick glances her way whilst pretending to flip through a very interesting Potions manual.

After a couple of minutes the tension got positively unbearable, and Easton snapped the book shut, the sound of which startled the poor Remus, and glared at him in gentle irritation. "What is it, Remus?"

The boy shuffled uncomfortably, fumbling with the binding of the old book in his hands. "It's just that...Bloody Sirius—" he mumbled.

Easton instantly perked up. "What did you say?"

Remus sighed loudly as if giving up on whatever he had been trying to accomplish and put the Potions book back where it belonged.

"Sirius asked me to check up on you," he said almost incomprehensibly quickly, but Easton managed to get every. Single. Word.

"P-pardon?"

"We saw you walking in here, and Sirius asked me to see if you were doing okay, what with..." Remus made a weird gesture pointing to his face awkwardly.

"He told you about..."

He nodded looking so guilty it made Easton feel bad for a moment.

"R-right," she said slowly.

"I'm sorry, it wasn't my place—"

"Why did he send you?" she asked vehemently, suddenly feeling quite offended by the fact that Sirius had been discussing her with his friend behind her back.

"What?"

"Why did Sirius send you to "check up" on me? Why does he care anyway?"

Sensing that he wasn't at all prepared for what was coming his way, Remus took a slow step back, as if preparing to retreat at any given opportunity.

"He was worried—"

"Well tell him not to, will you?" In a blink of an eye Easton was on her feet, clutching her bag with raging ferocity. "Tell him I've been doing just fine on my own for six years, and I sure as hell do not need his bloody charity right now."

She felt an instant need to apologise to the flummoxed Remus, who could do nothing but blink at her in total awe. But she quickly suppressed the urge and ran past him, only slightly nudging him in the shoulder in the process.

She'd always felt something for Sirius Black.

But right now it was anything _but_ admiration.

She loved Sirius Black. Didn't she? She had to. Right?

Through her torturous years at Hogwarts Sirius seemed to be the anchor that kept holding her afloat. Easton loved looking at him when he was laughing at one of his friend's jokes, loved seeing him shamelessly flirt with McGonagall and get away with it because it was just what he did. Because the simple truth here at Hogwarts was that everybody, and even some of the Slytherins (though they'd never openly admit to it), simply loved the mischievous Marauder.

Easton did love the mischievous Marauder.

But did she love Sirius Black?

The situation reminded her of the time she and Penelope were discussing the hottest Hollywood actors and what they would've done had they met them in real life. Easton, of course, instantly confessed that she would've surely screamed her lungs out and then passed out because she would've never had the courage to actually flirt with them like Penny had suggested. But then again, Penny always was the flirty damsel to Easton's grumpy leprechaun, so there was that.

Their deep and meaningful discussion then got even more philosophical when they touched upon the topic of Hollywood hotties being actors, doing what they did best—pretend to be other people. So maybe, just maybe, had they met their idols in person, they would've been rather disappointed to see a simple narcissistic Hollywood sissy instead of an Italian gangster.

Easton couldn't help but wonder if that was the case with Sirius Black. She loved his performance in the whole "Hogwarts" play but had she really met the leading actor?

The thought consumed Easton's mind while she was trying to enjoy the chocolate pudding in front of her, eyes staring into the distance. To anyone looking, it might've seemed like Easton was contemplating her existence or trying to revise that one Potion recipe. Nothing could distract her from the self-destructive pondering. Nothing but Penelope exiting the Great Hall with fucking Andrew Hopkins when she was supposed to wait up for Easton so that they could go to the Astronomy Tower together and gossip.

A spoonful of chocolate pudding hung in the air while Easton was looking at the pair as they laughed and smiled, and did all the disgusting stuff people did when they were besotted with each other. And then the spoon fell into the bowl, the sound drawing attention of the two girls sitting nearby.

"My my, I'm finally starting to see some silver and green in you, Greengrass," sneered Felicity Higgs. "That hatred is worthy of a true Slytherin," the girls laughed.

"Sod off, Felicity."

The brunette ignored Easton's retort and smiled. "We're going back to the dorms. Coming with?"

Easton wanted to follow the reflex and say no but suddenly realized that she'd lost all her appetite and didn't really have any plans for the evening. Anymore.

"Yeah, let's go," she mumbled in reply and stood from her seat to follow the little group out of the Great Hall. Passing by the Gryffindor table, Easton couldn't help the habit and scanned the lion's den in search of Sirius Black. Who wasn't even there. Nor was his little group.

As they neared the dungeons, Felicity Higgs and Irma Yaxley were giggling between themselves, discussing one of the seventh year Ravenclaw boys who, judging by what Easton could make out from their blabbering, was "indecently fit", Merlin knew what that meant.

Easton mutely trailed behind them, fumbling mindlessly with the strap of her school bag. She was so tired, she simply couldn't wait to just fall into the sweet embrace of her bed and give into slumber.

"Evan!" Felicity shrieked.

Easton froze, her eyes nervously searching for an alcove she could hide in and, unfortunately, finding none.

"Ladies," came her cousin's usual drawl. It had the dimwits swoon and bat their eyelashes that were so heavily coated with mascara, they almost resembled broomsticks.

Easton prayed he wouldn't notice her behind the two girls, who both were two heads higher than herself, but as soon as Evan's eyes fell on her, she knew she was spotted.

He wasn't the pompous little git she had deemed him before—Easton had learned that the hard way after their unfortunate encounter in the broom cupboard. If before she could dismiss him with a witty remark or a simple "sod off", now Easton couldn't utter a word. All she could see in front of her was Evan's malicious grin and green eyes that burned you with their blazing coldness. Him staring at Easton seemed to remind her of the concealed bruises on her arm and her face.

Easton was afraid. And she couldn't say she liked it.

"How are you faring this evening, cousin?" Evan asked in a preposterously gallant manner for his audience to see.

"I'm alright, thank you," she muttered in reply, feeling her hands get cold and shaky from the nerves.

Evan then tore his eyes away from Easton and looked at the two girls, who were practically starving for his attention.

"Well, ladies, you'd better not wander the corridors alone. Who knows what might be creeping in the shadows?" he suggested with a hearty laugh that sent shivers down Easton's spine. She got the message.

"Good to know that we have a gent like you to save us," giggled Felicity.

"Wouldn't want anything bad happening to you, now would I?"

"You're too kind, Evan," the girl leaned in to gently touch his arm.

 _Oh, Circe, just get on with it,_ Easton thought with an internal groan.

"Goodnight then, ladies," Evan finally bade his goodbye, that she wished was a farewell, and left his loyal admirers to freely giggle like first year Hufflepuffs.

"So fit," Felicity breathed in total disbelief and then looked at Easton, "don't you think he's fit, Easton?"

Easton almost choked on her saliva.

"C-come again?" She could feel her cheeks heating up at the mere assumption.

Felicity huffed, "oh, stop blushing. It's not like it's uncommon, he's just your cousin. My mum married her cousin, and look at me and Trevor," she flipped her thick chestnut hair.

Easton thought that it wasn't the greatest ad for inbreeding but preferred not to grace the words with a reaction. The thought of having any kind of relationship with Evan Rosier made her want to prepare for the N.E. . And that was saying something.

"I'd do him," sighed Irma with a dreamy look on her face.

Felicity nodded eagerly, and they resumed their walk to the common room that had been so rudely interrupted. However, as the girls walked forward, Easton found that she didn't really want to return to the dorms anymore.

"Easton?" Felicity called, looking back at her expectedly.

"You know what, you girls go without me." The brunette raised her left brow willing Easton to explain the reason for her sudden detour. "I think I forgot something in the Great Hall."

However lame the excuse was, it seemed to satisfy Felicity's curiosity, as she dismissed Easton with a single shrug before telling Irma that they should go. Seriously, the nerve of the girl.

The hour was nearing curfew, and Easton found herself standing alone in a deserted corridor. Looking around, she decided she'd better hurry because the last thing she wanted was to be caught by a prefect.

Ever since she was old enough to understand what Hogwarts was, Easton spent every second dreaming of going there. She couldn't wait to meet other kids, who weren't her mother's friends', she wanted to do real magic and not the weird stuff her tutor tried to teach her. All of these things, however, weren't meant to be.

She had ended up in the same House as the kids of her mother's friends, and the stuff she had to learn got even more boring and weird.

That being said, Hogwarts went from being the castle on a cloud to a cage deep in the caverns of hell. There were only a few places that didn't irritate Easton much, those being the big oak tree down by the Great Lake, the abandoned Transfiguration classroom on the fifth floor and the Astronomy Tower, where she was currently heading.

Easton cast a Warming Charm (one of the few she actually knew) and climbed the steep narrow staircase to finally feel the cold evening air hit her in the face, which was rather refreshing.

The Astronomy Tower was said to be the go-to snogging spot here at Hogwarts but so far Easton hadn't intruded on anyone's hot date.

She wondered if Sirius had ever brought Marlene here.

 _Circe, no, do not think about that_ , she commanded to herself as she settled on the edge of the tower, her legs hanging over the hundreds of feet of air. Easton liked this feeling, to be honest. It was the closest she would ever get to flying, seeing as there was no love lost between her and broomsticks.

Putting her school bag next to her, Easton took out her sketchbook, chose a little pencil that probably needed sharpening, and set to work. She didn't really have a picture in mind and it's not like she'd be drawing landscapes at almost nighttime, so Easton began sketching someone's face, not entirely sure who it belonged to. Her fingers were gripping the pencil tightly, allowing it to sweep gently over the paper, and just as the strokes got harder, Easton started to make out the familiar sharp jaw and glimmering eyes.

 _Oh, hell no._

She quickly set the sketchbook aside and let out an exasperated groan at herself. Why was it that her mind always strayed to Sirius bloody Black—Marauder extraordinaire—whenever it was not busy with something else, which in Easton's case meant all the damn time? Honestly, he wasn't even that hot, really—okay, no, he was that hot but surely it couldn't and shouldn't have been the only reason for her obsession?

"We should stop meeting this way."

 _You have got to be shitting me._

For a minute Easton contemplated just pretending to be dead but decided against it, for it would probably have caused some confusion. Instead she pretended to be deaf, which was a much better alternative, though not as effective.

"What're you doing here?"

Easton was observing the view in front of her with much more intent than she had ever had: dusk had crept up on the Forest, coating it in the shadows of night and making the noble pines look like spears piercing the dark blue night sky. Easton found she rather enjoyed eventide and the fresh air of calmness and sweet solitude it always brought. Although right now there was no solitude or calmness. There was definitely no calmness. At all.

"Easton?" Sirius called warily.

She fixed her gaze on the forest with more intensity, when she heard him coming closer.

"Hey," he sat next to her at the barrier, and Easton hated the way her body reacted to him. Just why was it always happening? Bloody hormones, "Are you o—"

"Didn't Remus already tell you?" she retorted before he even had a chance to finish, her voice surprisingly cold and determined.

Easton hoped Sirius hadn't noticed how she almost patted herself on the shoulder.

"Easton—"

Her head snapped towards him, and for the first time in forever Easton could look in those sodding grey orbs and not act like an absolute dunderhead. Oh, how she loved it. "Why are you so bloody interested all of a sudden?" she demanded, eyes glimmering with irritation.

"Why would I not be?"

 _Fucking really, Sirius Black?_

Easton narrowed her eyes at him. "Why _would_ you be, though?"

"This conversation is going nowhere," Sirius sighed and ran his hand through his perfect mane of wavy raven hair.

"You were the one who came here and started it" Easton pointed out.

Sirius eyed widened at this, brows raised in surprise. "Oh, I can't come to the Astronomy Tower now? What is it, _yours_?"

"What are you, _five_?"

Easton's brain screamed to stop disrespecting the holy gift of nature to the wizarding kind right this second, but she couldn't. And she wouldn't, for as of now, her anger at Sirius Black was overshadowing her devotion and all kinds of unhealthy obsessions.

"Why are you being so defensive all of a sudden?"

Easton let out a hysterical laugh. "All of a sudden? This is the third conversation we've shared, Sirius. I don't think you can make any assumption as to how I am 'all of a sudden'."

Sirius didn't argue with that statement. He simply gave her a helpless look and then turned his gaze to the forest.

For a couple of minutes they just sat like that—staring into the distance, only a melodic howl of wind and some very disturbing sounds coming from the depth of the forest hanging in the air.

"How's your lip?" Came a sudden question.

"Fine," Easton replied after some time, "hurts a bit to smile but I don't have many reasons to, so that's not really a problem." She would've liked to say it was a silly joke but then realized that in the last few months she'd cried more than in the past couple of years.

Easton noticed that Sirius had taken something out of his robes and turned to see him lightening a muggle fag with a flick of his wand.

He smirked, catching apparent surprise on her face, which made Easton blush and turn her eyes back to the forest. "You smoke?" she asked.

"Yeah," he brought the fag to his lips and took a deep drag. "Marlene hates it but I can't make myself quit—too addictive."

Right, Marlene, Easton reminded herself, playing with her fingers like she always did when she was nervous.

She nodded weakly. "Right."

There was a long pause. Easton could feel Sirius tense as if he wanted to say something but couldn't yet make up his mind, before he finally spoke. "Listen, Easton, I—I think I know what you're going through..."

"You really don't, Sirius," she shook her head with a bitter chuckle.

"Just..." he sighed, grasping for the right words, "just know that your family doesn't always define who you are, Easton. They may give you your name but it is up to you to decide how you want it to be remembered."

Easton tucked a stray curl behind her ear, taking her time to think of an answer. "What if I don't want to be remembered?" Her words were so weak they seemed to have dissolved into thin air. "See, sometimes I just wish I was born a squib, so that I could disappoint my parents right away instead of making them wait for so many years. Because that's surely not how I want to be remembered."

"Easton—"

"I should go, it's probably past curfew." Easton stood up rapidly, picking up the sketchbook and the pencil along with her schoolbag.

"No, wait," Sirius jumped to his feet in her trail. "Easton, we should talk—"

"Goodnight, Sirius," she mumbled without looking at him and raced down the staircase, leaving Sirius Black alone in the cold, watching her run away.


	10. A Filthy Creature

**_A/N: Hey, guys! Sorry for the wait, I'm trying to post on Tuesdays but sometimes uni gets the better of me, and I'm too tired to even breathe after classes lol_**

 ** _Again, I can't thank you enough for your faves and comments, they are truly the highlights of my days! Anyways, I hope you like this chapter! As promised, it's getting a bit darker..._**

" _Darling Easton,_

 _I suspect the news of the Yule party has reached you at last._

 _Oh, my dear, your father and I are so happy to be hosting it this year; last time Walburga Black looked too smug for my liking, that horrible woman._

 _I'm writing to let you know that you need not preoccupy yourself with finding the perfect dress, for I have got you a most exquisite attire. I'm sure you will simply love it; I can already see how marvelously it will bring out your eyes, dear._

 _I wish you the happiest of journeys back home, darling. Marius will be meeting you at the platform, as I have a lot of things to see to before the party._

 _P.S Be nice to Evan, he will be coming with you straight to the Manor. Oh and darling, do fix your hair!_

 _Love, Mother._ "

Easton scoffed indignantly and threw the letter into the depths of her overstuffed trunk. The contents of it hadn't surprised her one bit, for she had expected nothing more than dull party chatter from her mother.

Quite unexpected, however, was that her cousin Marius was in town after almost a year abroad. Granted, he never missed Christmas but Easton genuinely thought he wouldn't be coming back in the near future.

Marius was the one member of her extended family she actually liked, not because she had to, but because she chose to. With a laid-back attitude that earned him several threats of being disowned, the one and only male Greengrass heir was akin to an idol to Easton, who someday wished to be as skilled in the mastery of not giving a bloody fuck, too.

Of course, there were moments when Easton despised him. A lot, actually.

See, Marius Greengrass, in spite of his many faults that included great love for potions (and not the kind that Professor Slughorn assigned), and a hankering after Mr. Ogden's legacy, was the perfect picture of an entitled pure-blooded brat with mountains of gold in his vault, good looks and an almighty family name.

But he wasn't Evan, and that alone was enough for Easton to like the bloke.

Picking up a quill, Easton scribbled a short "Yes, Mother dearest" and hurried to the owlery to make there before the dinner began, which she was planning to ever so casually ditch. There wasn't really a valid reason for it apart from the fact that she just didn't want to be present, and decided she'd go take a walk around the castle to escape the festive bustle.

Penelope would surely be with her newfound lover anyway, not that Easton minded, so she wouldn't really have anyone to spend the day with and, as it turned out, the holiday, too. According to Penny, Andrew's family had gone to Spain, and the caring girlfriend she was, Penelope decided to stay with him at Hogwarts because she didn't want him "to be alone for our first Christmas together". Just like that, the slim chance of sneaking away to her best friend's house during the break was ruined, too.

Easton wasn't hurt; no, she was happy for Penelope. At least she should've been. And so she let out a loud sigh, worthy of a martyr, put on the robes and, wrapping a simple green woolen scarf around her neck, headed to the owlery.

On the path to the West Tower which wended its way through the snowy grounds of the castle, Easton remembered just why she loved winter so much. The outside looked like a fairytale, with blankets of snow shining as if made of billions of diamonds under the dim light of the moon. Easton climbed up the stairs, making sure not to slip, and entered the noisy owlery. She was happy to find her favorite owl, a beautiful western screech, that Easton had so fittingly called Bambi, for the bird had almost the same coloring, roosting on one of the lower perches. She almost screeched at the sight of the girl, as if genuinely happy to see her.

At least someone was.

"I need you to deliver it to my Mother," Easton asked, petting the bird. "You can bite her if you want," she added in conspiratorial whisper. For a second Easton thought that the owl actually nodded before flying away with the letter.

The walk back to the castle wasn't as magical, for Easton found it hard to enjoy winter when there was a huge chance of freezing to death. She wrapped the scarf tighter around her neck and quickened her pace until she finally stepped into the pleasant warmth of the halls.

"Easton!"

"Fuck," Easton muttered under her breath and and turned around to see Lily Evans practically running towards her.

"Jesus, how do you do that?," Lily exclaimed, her breath ragged. "I've been searching the castle for half an hour looking for you".

Easton regarded the fussy Head Girl in utter puzzlement. "What for?" In response Lily just handed her a sheet of paper. Easton took one look at it, and suddenly a smile spread across her face. "Oh, sweet."

It was the Potion's test Lily had given her last week to see how much progress they'd made in the last semester, and Easton had surprisingly aced it.

"You may even get an E on your N.E.W.T exam!" Lily commented excitedly. "Of course, we'll have to work _really_ hard..."

"Thank you, Lily" Easton smiled at her in genuine appreciation.

Their little study sessions turned out to be the only highlight of her school days, what with Penelope ditching her every chance she got, which was totally fine with Easton. She found that Lily Evans was every bit as bubbly and amazing and all things perfect as people said. Of course, she could be overly bossy and annoying sometimes, especially when Easton started to act like a whiny baby during Charms, but she was an overall okay person to be around. Certainly a fresh breath of air from her Slytherin comrades.

Easton shuffled awkwardly, already wanting to leave. "Well, I guess I'll see you next year," she laughed at her own lame joke.

"Where are you going?" Lily asked, her eyes suddenly narrowed in suspicion as she was taking in Easton's clothing.

"Oh," Easton hadn't really thought that far ahead, "I'm going to take a little walk," she said with a reassuring smile that didn't seemed all that reassuring to Lily.

"You're not coming to the feast?" she sounded positively horrified.

Easton sheepishly shook her head in response.

"How come?"

"I just—" really, Easton wasn't at all cunning, so lying was as much of a torture to her as failing a test for a Ravenclaw, "I'm just feeling kind of dizzy. Have to get some fresh air."

Lily didn't believe a word she'd said, that much was clear. She just stood there piercing Easton with her bright emerald eyes, contemplating her next move. Easton was afraid the red-head would take her to the Great Hall by force; she knew Lily was capable of it physically, seeing as the Head Girl had to kick Potter's ass nearly every day for seven years.

"Maybe you should go to the Hospital Wing," Lily suggested with a warm smile; however, there was a tint of worry in her eyes.

"Maybe I will," Easton nodded. "Later, Evans."

She loathed lying, especially to Lily, but telling her that she was feeling exceptionally miserable, surrounded by happiness, wasn't really high on her list.

After parting with Easton, Lily went to the Great Hall. She headed directly to the Gryffindor table, where she could see her two best friends, and took her usual spot opposite Mary McDonald and Marlene McKinnon.

"'Lo, Evans," Sirius drawled with a toothy grin and winked at her.

Lily only scowled at him in return. She loved Marlene and had promised her to be civil with the guy her best friend had had a crush on since second year, but Sirius Black didn't make it easy for her. Everybody knew there was no Black without Potter, and since the relationship between the former and Marlene was rapidly blossoming, James never missed a chance to annoy Lily by sitting next to her. When she yelled at him to bugger off and get on somebody else's nerves, he nonchalantly claimed that Lily just so happened to be sitting next to his best mate, and that " _not everything is about you, Evans, Circe._ "

God, how she wanted to stick his eyeglasses elsewhere.

"Good evening, m'lady," Potter did an excuse of a courtesy bow but Lily didn't so much as throw him a glare.

Right now she was oblivious to James's antics. Lily seemed deep in though, her brows knitted together in a frown as she was trying to put some food onto her plate.

The sudden apathy didn't go unnoticed by her friends. Mary, ever the empath, was the first to ask Lily if she was okay.

"Yeah, I'm good," Lily answered but there was obviously much more she wanted to say. And she did after a short internal debate, "It's just that...you all know Easton Greengrass, right?"

Lily looked at her friends. Mary instantly nodded, Marlene looked like she was trying to place the name and failing and Sirius was regarding her warily with a tad of worry and curiosity in his grey eyes that were usually filled with glee.

"The weird Slytherin bird?" James asked, and as much as Lily wanted to slap him on the head in that moment, she simply nodded.

"What about her?" asked Marlene, savoring a shepherd's pie. The girl sure did love her food.

"I went to give her back the test she'd taken last week," Lily said and then added to those who didn't know, "I"m tutoring her".

"So what?" urged Sirius.

Lily thought it weird that he was so interested but didn't show it. "She was leaving the castle," she explained, worry shadowing her sunny features. "Said she wasn't feeling well and wouldn't be coming to the feast."

James snorted loudly, "Who could blame her? Spending the feast with the snakes, I'd bale too."

"On all the food?" asked Remus skeptically, not pulling his attention away from the book he was reading. His words made James rethink his last statement.

"I'm worried about her," Lily shrugged. "She's been a bit down lately you know? Usually during our lessons she'd make weird jokes and burn stuff on accident but she's been so passive."

No one seemed to know what to say, for all they knew about Easton Greengrass was that she was a strange girl with red hair, who was always drawing and singing weird muggle songs.

"Maybe it's personal?" Remus mused feebly, finally tearing his eyes from the book. "Something to do with her family."

This time it was Sirius who spoke, "Bloody right it is her family," he agreed vehemently. "The lot of them are Death—"

"Sirius," Marlene said pointedly, tightening the grip on the fork in her hand.

The Marauder looked at his friends for support but they all suddenly became awfully silent.

"We can't ignore it any longer," Sirius urged hotly, "we can't ignore them. Don't you see what's going on? They are recruiting fucking students," he whispered with such force it sounded like a hiss.

"Sirius, mate—"

"They got Regulus."

James halted.

"What?"

"At least I think so, he..." Sirius rubbed his face with his hands, exhausted, "he hasn't talked to me at all this year, been more distant than usual."

Marlene instantly reached out to wrap her hand around Sirius's, squeezing it reassuringly. He sent her a forced yet grateful smile in return.

"You think Greengrass is...?" James trailed, horrified.

Lily slapped him on the head. "Have you gone mad?" She shrieked at such preposterous assumption. James threw her an offended side glance, pouting and rubbing the sore spot.

"She most definitely isn't, Prongs," Sirius shook his head passively, "and that's probably the problem."

"You mean she's in danger?" asked Remus, looking genuinely concerned.

No one spoke of it but for a second everyone thought of what fate might hold for the poor Slytherin girl. The realisation was evident on their faces that were filled with fear.

Mary squeezed Lily's hand, noticing the red-headed girl turn ghostly pale.

"I was in a similar situation," Sirius spoke, his voice weak with helplessness, "the only difference is that I didn't actually care, which Easton, unfortunately, does."

"Do you think she knows?" Lily asked unsurely, "about her family, I mean."

Sirius brushed his hair away from his face, "I suppose so. But can she really do anything about it? We shouldn't blame her either way."

Marlene decided she didn't quite like the way Sirius spoke of the girl—with such passion and fierceness. Of course, she knew him to be very short-tempered and obstinate in his opinions but she couldn't help but think that this was taking it a bit too far. However, she managed to stifle her unreasonable fit of jealousy and instead be there for her boyfriend.

"Where's Wormtail by the way?" Remus suddenly wondered, "I haven't seen him since morning."

"Pestering Francis Goldstein probably," sneakered James taking a sip of his pumpkin juice, "poor bird. He won't leave her alone."

It was a horrifically stupid idea to go for a walk, that much Easton realized as soon as she found herself outside once again. Not only was it freezing cold but it was also bloody dark and rather frightening.

Making random dance moves to keep herself warm, Easton neared the Stone Circle which, she decided, would be her last stop before returning to the castle.

"Why couldn't you have just stayed in and pretended you had a fever?" she wondered out loud. "You're a witch, could've bloody well figured something out."

The entrance to the Covered Bridge was just a few steps away when suddenly Easton heard voices coming from the direction of the Boathouse. Not thinking of anything better, she jumped behind one of the stones and leant out enough to have peek.

"...shut it, Pucey," someone hissed. Easton couldn't see who it was, for she didn't really have the best view from behind the stone. But she did hear a name. Pucey. Now what the hell is he doing here?

Leaning closer to the massive and terribly cold stone, Easton tried to discreetly listen in to the conversation.

"But I thought Lucius said we'd meet him after Christmas–"

"He said keep your mouth shut, Albert," now that was the voice she'd recognise anywhere.

As if on queue, Easton's heart set off in a blood-boiling dance, she could hear the beat in her temples, in every part of her body. She wished there was a way for her to escape, but alas, she was trapped: if she ran down the hill, they'd surely see her, and the bridge wasn't even an option.

 _Fucking damn it._

"How come Severus has already been marked? He's just a filthy half-blood," muttered another voice, sounding dangerously close.

It seemed it couldn't have got colder, but the next words made Easton's blood freeze. "The Lord thinks him valuable," came Evan's disdainful reply.

Easton realized she couldn't move a muscle, almost paralyzed by fear and shock of what she'd just heard. It was only when the dreadful winter silence was interrupted by the sound of snow crunching, which meant that boys were already nearing the bridge, that Easton came to, blinking rapidly, and took a cautious step back. Oh, what a big mistake that was.

For, as a saying goes, snow crunches bloody everywhere. Easton was pretty sure there was no such proverb, however, cringing hardly at her own stupidity, she wished there had been.

"Did you hear that?" The voice sounded alarmed.

"Probably just a rabbit," dismissed another.

"How stupid are you, Yaxley?"

 _Irma's brother?_

"I'll go check," suggested a new voice.

Suddenly Easton found herself in the most terrifying predicament on her entire life. It could've well been her very last predicament, come to think of it. If Evan found out she'd been eavesdropping on their conversation, her dear mother would've received a note about her daughter's untimely passing by the hands of a giant Acromantula, her body forever lost. And no one would've suspected Evan. He probably would've cried at her funeral and then smiled maliciously into his silken handkerchief.

Easton was already regretting not having put together a will, for she would've wanted to give her vinyls to Penelope for good use, and her hidden collection of muggle posters to...Penelope, seeing as she had no other friends, when suddenly her terror-filled eyes met with an impassive stare of none other than Regulus Black.

She was looking at him in complete shock and horror, debating whether he would give her away. Regulus, in his turn, looked as unimpressed with her as usual, as if he wasn't surprised to see her here at all.

Easton didn't think she and Regulus were friends; no, that'd be taking it way too far, but they did have their moments. She hoped that would be enough to melt his little black heart.

"Nothing," said Regulus in a low baritone, his eyes still fixed on Easton, "must've been some filthy creature."

Easton had a sense that in his mind, Regulus wasn't really lying.

"Let's go then," Evan commanded with a bit of haste in his voice, as if he was trying to get back to the castle as quickly as possible.

"You go," Easton made quite an audible gulp at Regulus's words, "I need to stop by the owlery."

Her cousin muttered something under his breath about Regulus being weird, and then Easton heard the merry band make their way to the bridge. Leaving her alone with the Black heir.

"I didn't hear anything?" she suggested pleadingly after some time, a rather awkward smile plastered on her face.

Regulus, however, didn't look taken in. Or angry. Or happy. There was no way of telling what he was feeling which was quite scary.

"What are you doing here?" he asked.

Easton, feeling uncomfortable under his grey eyes that now looked incredibly dark, started fussing with her scarf to busy herself.

"Walking," she replied with a slight huff to emphasise the obviousness of her answer.

"And why aren't you in the Great Hall?"

"I'm dieting," Easton met Regulus's apathetic eyes with a glimmer of challenge in hers. "What? Summer's almost here, can you blame me? Your brother's girlfriend jogs around the Quidditch pitch every morning. I'm not much into sports, so food has to go," she explained with what she thought was smoothness.

 _Too much, Easton._

"I know you've heard enough to start making assumptions," Regulus said, suddenly changing the tone of their conversation. "I trust you will be wise about it, Easton?"

"It's true, then. The rumours," Easton whispered almost to herself. "He's really recruiting from the school?"

Regulus answered with a reserved nod.

"And...and he..." she looked him over as if searching for something, "He m-marks you?

"He does, yes."

Easton could practically feel thoughts swirling in her head in a raging storm, beating, screaming, scattering all around without leaving a blank space. For a minute Easton thought she'd forgotten how to speak, only opening and closing her mouth much like a fish.

"D-did he mark you?"

The question made Regulus falter for just a mere second before he regained his immaculate composure. "No," he said and then added as an afterthought, "not yet."

Easton nodded feebly, taking in the information.

"Did he mark Evan?" she asked despite already guessing the answer.

"Last summer."

"R-right," Easton let out a shaky breath, feeling slightly dizzy. "You know what, I'm..." she made a step and almost stumbled, her hand finding the rock in time, "I have to g-get back, b-before..."

"Are you alright?"

Regulus reached out to help her with a worried look on his face, but Easton took another step back from him.

"I'll see you at Christmas," she stuttered and ran towards the entrance to the bridge.

"Easton—"

Easton began blinking rapidly in a desperate try to get rid of the tiny black dots that were clouding her vision faster and faster with each passing second. Her head felt light and almost empty, hands shaky and numb. She could feel her legs getting limp as cotton candy, hear her heart racing rapidly as if she was running a marathon.

Easton felt like she was suffocating.

She crossed the Covered Bridge and ran out into the Clock Courtyard, completely deserted at such time. All the other students were in the Great Hall having their last dinner before going home for the Christmas break, and there Easton was, alone, cold and on the verge of passing out.

 _Hospital Wing_ , her misty mind recalled.

Squeezing her eyes tightly to once again get rid of the irritating black dots, Easton headed to the Hospital Wing that was the closest thing to her at the moment. She wasn't a frequent visitor there, to tell the truth. In all her years in Hogwarts, the only times Easton went to the infirmary were when she was having horrible cramps back in fourth year (it was beyond embarrassing) and when Evan had shut her mouth with sticking charm during a heated argument in sixth year.

Probably that was why, or maybe because of the fact that she almost fell right on the floor when she entered the infirmary, that a middle-aged woman, who Easton recognised to be Madam Pomfrey, ran to her rescue with a horrified expression on her face.

"Oh dear," she cooed, helping Easton up, "right this way, darling," the matron gently led her to one of the hospital beds. "Sit here, sweetheart, I'll be right back." Easton could barely hear her voice as if it was coming from far, far away, but still nodded.

Madam Pomfrey hadn't lied, and was back in a span of a minute with a shiny vial filled with blueish liquid. "It's Calming Draught, Miss Greengrass," she explained and uncorked it. "Trust me, it will help."

Easton wasn't going to protest when Madam Pomfrey brought the vial to her mouth and titled it so that it was easier for Easton to drink the potion. The draught tasted slightly bitter, which made her crinkle her nose, but as soon as the vial was down, Easton could feel an instant sense of serenity suffusing her body.

"All better, dear?" Madam Pomfrey smiled at her affectionately.

"Y-yes," Easton breathed, "thank you, Madam Pomfrey. I..."

"Now I want you to lie down for a couple of hours," the woman instructed with a bit of bossiness to her otherwise tender tone.

"But..."

"You've exhausted yourself, Miss Greengrass. Your body needs rest," Madam Pomfrey said and left, leaving no room for argument. Easton found herself nodding obediently at no one in particular and lying down comfortably on the hospital bed. She laid her head, that felt a bit heavy, on soft pillows and let out a loud sigh.

She definitely had a lot to think about.


	11. Birdcage

**A/N: I'M SO SORRY FOR MY LONG ABSENCE! I swear I didn't abandon this fic and never will. I know the struggle and would never put any fic reader through that, I'm not that cruel (I'm so self-important, God, I'm not that famous).**

 **It's just that I'm struggling with my finals at the uni and basically have no time to sleep, let alone write :(**

 **Anyways, I hope that you'll forgive me, because this chapter is the longest so far and has lots of Regulus in it :)**

 **Happy reading!**

HEAD RESTING ON THE WINDOW, Easton watched the train approach the station. The glass felt pleasantly cold against her hot skin as she was trying and failing to fight off a migraine—quite an unwelcome reminder of her almost passing out the day before.

When the Hogwarts Express finally halted, a hoard of first years ran towards the exit, eager to meet their parents and tell them all about the wonderful time they'd had at school. Their squeals and the thumping of their little feet made Easton groan and shut her eyes, the cacophony causing her temples to pulse with piercing pain. She didn't move until the annoying brats were gone, and as soon as the train was filled with a delightful silence, she took the grumpy Fawlty along with her small bag and quite reluctantly headed to the exit.

Josefine was already waiting for her, fuming with anger from the looks of it. "Took you long enough," she hissed impatiently and got off the train to join...

"I was starting to get worried you jumped off," Evan offered Easton a slimy smile.

Her eyes widened in mock epiphany. "Blimey, why didn't I think of that?" she exclaimed. To be honest, Easton would choose jumping off a train over family holidays any day. So really, it wasn't such a bad idea. Not at all. "Where's Marius?" she asked Josefine, looking around in search of her favorite cousin.

"He's not here yet. Fashionably late, as always," Josie replied with a huff. "I don't even see why he's coming to get us. It's not like we're third years or something. Evan received his Apparition license recently, he could've taken us."

Easton couldn't help a snigger but Evan's angry glare did well to shut her up.

"Oi! Ickle cousins!"

Josefine let out a groan, Evan rolled his eyes and Easton's face broke into a smile. "Marius!"

The one thing you should know about Marius Tiberius Greengrass is that the self-important bastard was devilishly handsome. Like Calvin Klein met Jeremy Irons kind of handsome, which sometimes made Easton think she might just overview her opinion on the whole pureblood intermarriage. Of course, she only joked about it. At least she'd like to think so.

Anyway, the truth was undeniable, for even Josefine, who hated him dearly, had to admit that Marius was indeed indecently 'dishy' as Penelope had said when she'd once seen his photo in a Daily Prophet. With his shiny chestnut hair that was always in a state of a perfect disarray, his absolutely magnificent baby blue eyes and a jaw to die for, he was without a single doubt the most eligible bachelor in the Wizarding Britain, with Lucius Malfoy following closely. Easton had to give it to the slimy snake, Malfoy was rather fit.

"Merlin's tits, Easton, your hair!" Marius exclaimed after getting a long (not long enough if Easton was being honest) and tight hug. "Bet Aunt 'Philia was ecstatic," he flashed her a disarming grin that was way too boyish for his age.

"What are you wearing?" asked Josefine, sizing her cousin up with a snotty look.

Marius looked down at his rather peculiar attire that consisted of an unbuttoned vest atop of a wrinkled muggle shirt and a pair of leather trousers.

"Yes, Marius, pray tell us," Easton challenged with a sly smile and raised her brow, awaiting an answer.

Marius suddenly became very composed, which looked almost comical, and cleared his throat, "I had a previous appointment. One I doubt any of you have any business to be privy to," he explained plainly and took a wand out of the back of his trousers. "Now let's go, shall we?"

Suddenly Easton felt a cold hand land on her shoulder squeezing it in a gentle yet somewhat possessive manner.

"I can take Easton and you go with Josie," Evan said. Easton tensed hearing her name leave his lips, and looked to Marius hoping that he would see reason and take her with him. However, Evan was pretty adamant. "You don't want to risk splinching anyone, do you, Marius?"

"Sure you can pull off a side-along, Rosier?" Marius inquired skeptically. Easton wanted to scream "Yes, show him! Like that!" but unfortunately had to keep her cheering at bay.

"I guess we'll see then," Evan joked half-heartedly. Despite Easton's wishes, Marius shared the laugh and took Josefine by the arm. "Alright, follow along. Josie, grab on," he instructed and instantly disapparated with Josefine by his side.

"Well, Easton," Evan faced her with a broad smile, offering her a hand, "grab on."

Before Easton could come up with an equally witty reply, she was pulled into an abysmal spiral.

The sounds of the Beatles' "Oh, Darling" filled the room, McCartney's voice echoing through the walls decorated with dozens of bizarre muggle posters. One of them was a huge peace sign on a yellow background, occupying almost half of the wall facing Easton's four-poster bed. She was currently lying on it and staring at the blank ceiling, hair splattered on the covers in a reddish halo. It was a moment of peace, a calm before the storm and Easton took her time relishing her short freedom by listening to the music and wiggling her feet in time with the beat. She had been careful enough to put a Silencing charm around the room before turning on the record player that she had gotten from an old scrubby pawn shop in East London. In was a funny story actually, because to get some muggle money, Easton had to sell a pair of ugly earrings her grandmother Agatha had given her on her fourteenth birthday that same year. She was sure the heirloom cost way more than 50 pounds but wasn't about to argue—she didn't care much about them anyway.

The weather outside the Greengrass Manor was 'shit', as Easton would call it. Whereas Scotland offered a picturesque winter fairytale, the gloomy skies over the English countryside were shedding tears that, mixed with occasional snow, covered the ground with disgusting sleet. The Greengrass Manor itself was a grand Palladian mansion that had stood through the centuries, situated in a ceremonial county of Yorkshire, near the Dales, where Easton spent the majority of her time during summer breaks. She was always eager to leave the mansion, for it inevitably gave her chills with its gold-framed portraits that watched your every step, antique tapestries that depicted the most atrocious scenes covering the thin walls, through which at night, a howling cry of the wind could be heard.

It was cold, it was bleak, it was bloody scary and Easton hated it.

Just when her favorite bit of the song was about to come on, the record player suddenly stopped. Easton jerked up from the bed to see what'd happened and her eyes landed on one of the house elves—Laney, who stood in the middle of her room in her shabby clothes, big round eyes glistening in the dim candle-light.

"What's the matter, Laney?" Easton asked worryingly, afraid that her mother might have scared the poor thing with her screeching yet again, which would be a fair guess seeing as the elf was practically shaking.

"M-mistress Greengrass tell Laney to ask the young Miss to come down to dinner. She tell Laney to say to the young Miss that the guests are already here," Laney reported timidly.

 _The guests?_

"Alright," Easton sighed and smiled at the elf to give her at least a little comfort, "thank you, Laney, I'll be right down."

There were plenty of things Easton hated, which you have probably gathered, but atop of that long list without a single doubt were family dinners.

Dinners in the Greengrass family were quite an important affair, treated with as much attention as any holiday feast. For Easton's father it was a perfect opportunity to pry into his daughters' lives, for her mother to do the same but with much more discretion, and for Easton to come up with plenty of creative ways to kill herself. In other words, it was a true delight.

Easton took a quick look at herself in the mirror, ran her fingers through her hair and headed downstairs to face whatever it was that awaited her in the dining hall. She didn't even bother to wear a fancy dress as her mother always urged her to do. Instead, Easton stayed in her brown corduroy knee-length skirt, a black turtleneck and a pair of black army boots that Penelope had given her last Christmas.

Coming down the stairs, she could hear voices and laughter echoing through the halls of the Manor and furrowed her brows in concentration, trying to make out what they were saying. By the sounds of it, there were definitely more than five of them.

Ever so hesitantly, Easton stepped into the bright dining room, her eyes involuntarily widening at the sight: at the long cherry wood table, clothed with a most exquisite tablecloth and filled with a rich variety of foods on shiny silver sets, were sitting about a dozen people, some of which Easton could easily recognise as her family. Others, however, were absolute strangers.

"Oh, there she is," her mother exclaimed, noticing Easton sheepishly standing in the doorway. Easton stifled a smirk when she saw how Ophelia's eyes all but rounded at her outfit. Lady Greengrass, however, was nothing short of a true hostess, and easily hid her horror behind a wide smile. Her father, however, wasn't as suave, and Easton was practically burning under his blazing glare. The guests, in their turn, regarded her with seething disapproval but not one of them dared to actually let it show. No one expect for Evan, who raised his eyebrows suggestively, eyeing Easton's skirt. Oh, how badly she wanted to flip him a bird.

"Come, come, dear, join us," Ophelia cooed in her sweet manner, "we saved you a seat next to Evan. You can chat away about school this way."

Easton let out an internal groan, now having no doubt that fate had it out for her. Her eyes moved to the empty seat next to her cousin, who gave her a self-important smirk, malice sparkling in his dark eyes. As much as it pained her to do it, Easton couldn't well throw a tantrum right there and then, and so she sucked it up and moved to sit next to the Slytherin Devil.

"Easton, I'm sure you're already acquainted with Trevor Higgs and his sister Felicity," Ophelia said, and Easton nodded at the bulky young man sitting next to the petite brunette, only now noticing them.

 _What the actual hell are these clods doing here?_

"Let me introduce you to their parents, Barnaby and Dahlia Higgs."

The pair looked as though there was a dung under their noses. Now Easton knew where Felicity'd got it from.

"It is a true pleasure to make your acceptances, Mister and Missus Higgs," Easton said ceremoniously with overdramatic respect that went unnoticed by the pair, who probably thought themselves worthy of the highest regard.

 _As if._

Easton caught Marius's eyes across the table, and he winked at her. He'd clearly appreciated the act, which caused her to smile. This little exchange wasn't missed by Easton's other cousin, who was sitting on her left and apparently craving attention. She could tell he was going to say something; however, it was in that moment that her father decided to ask Evan a question about his plans after Hogwarts. Easton let out a steady sigh of relief.

She sat next to Evan, straight with tension as a fiddle, throwing curious yet cautious glances his way while he was conversing with his father on something that had to do with the Ministry. Easton couldn't help but wonder where he bore the mark. On his chest? His neck? His arm? Or probably on his lower back like a slutty tattoo, she mused. Busy with her guesses, Easton was simultaneously trying to figure out how to eat the poached pear in front of her. Suffice to say, she was failing miserably and desperately wished there was a juicy burger with a side of chips on the menu instead.

The meaningless thoughts were carrying Easton away from the buzz of dinner conversations, and she was actually starting to doze off from boredom when suddenly she heard Evan talking in her ear:

"That's one short skirt, Tinsy. Your half-blood whore of a friend's influence, undoubtedly," he said, a gracious smile on his lips.

Easton had almost dropped the spoon from feeling his hot breath tickle the side of her neck. "Sod off, Evan," she whispered, eyes still fixed on the fruit.

"Why, I'm merely worried about you. Ought I not fulfill my duty as an elder brother?" Evan gasped theatrically. "You know the twisted minds of boys our age, Easton. It would be a shame if you fell prey to their wicked ways," he knifed through the pear in front of him, letting out a trickle of red liquid from the fruit. One would think it was somewhat poetic, how wine instantly filled the plate, bearing an awful resemblance to a pool of crimson blood.

Noticing Easton stare at it in silent mortification, Evan smirked at her and demonstratively sent a piece of the pear into his mouth.

"Easton, darling, what are your plans after graduation?" her aunt Medea suddenly asked, pulling Easton from her trance. Still a little dazed, her mind scattered, she did her best to collect her thoughts at last and smiled at the woman.

"To be honest, I haven't yet decided, Aunt Medea," she replied, ignoring a snigger from Evan.

The answer seemed to satisfy the middle-aged lady, not that she much cared about it in the first place, and soon everyone at the table was busy with mindless chatter about the upcoming galas at the Ministry, the old days and the incompetence of Albus Dumbledore—same old same old.

However, the talks were instantly silenced when her father, Orpheus Greengrass, rose from his sit with a glass of wine, a triumphant look on his face. From the corner of her eye Easton saw her sister beam at her boyfriend Trevor Higgs across the table.

"I am pleased to share with all those present here, our closest friends and family, the happy news of my youngest daughter's engagement to the heir of the Higgs House," he announced with as much happiness as he was capable of, which wasn't that much, to be honest. That's why he looked as if he was giving a speech at Wizengamot.

Easton, however, didn't notice that. All she could hear was "youngest daughter", "engagement" and "Higgs"—the three words that together had rendered her numb and speechless.

Her sixteen-year-old little sister was getting married.

 _Her sixteen-year-old little sister was getting married?!_

As it turned out, Easton's sixteen-year-old little sister was indeed getting married and to her childhood "sweetheart" at that. Easton couldn't help but think of all the period dramas she had watched with Penelope, where it was akin to a death sentence for an eldest sister to be married off last. Oh, what a shame it had brought on the Bennet house when Lydia eloped with Mister Wickham, that wretched little spoiled brat. In other words, Josefine was an idiot, Trevor a ponce, her father much richer, and Easton now a spinster. What else was new?

But it was Yuletide Eve, happiness was swirling in the gloomy halls of the Greengrass Manor, at these merry times alit with elegant ornaments that the poor house elves had spent the whole night putting up. There was no place for worries or sorrow, you had to be as festive as possible even if it required you to nick some Firewhiskey out from your father's secret stash in the library.

And there Easton was, gulping down the fiery substance that totally lived up to its name, tears prickling in the corners of her eyes from the burning in her throat. It was the very first time Easton tried Firewhiskey and she indeed made a couple of notes for the future: first, you probably shouldn't drink it straight out of a bottle as if it were pumpkin juice, and second, if you ignore the first burn, it goes pretty smoothly after.

"Bloody hell," she sighed in shock and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. She put the bottle back where it belonged, hoping that her father wouldn't notice that it had been moved and closed the wooden cabinet. The two-story library of the Greengrass Manor was mysteriously lit by dozens of candles floating in the air, the dim sounds of music could be heard from the main hall, undoubtedly already crowded with guests.

Easton really didn't want to go down there. She'd much rather stay in the comfort of her room, reading a book or just wallowing in her misery, anything seemed more exciting than the Yuletide party in the company of the finest wizards of all Britain, sarcasm very much intended.

But she had responsibilities, as her mother had warned her the previous evening. Whatever that meant. And Easton, in all her rebellious glory, decided, that if there was no way to escape the wretched celebration, she would at least attend it on her own terms. Of course, her mother didn't have to know that.

That's why Easton was not wearing the exceptionally elegant robes that Ophelia had bought for her and was sporting a spangled silvery dress made of nothing but girly frills instead. She had also styled her hair a little, securing the red locks in a half-assed bun with muggle hairpins, for she didn't really fancy accidentally turning herself bald by trying any beauty charms.

Easton walked down the stairs deliberately, adamant on taking her time to get to the main hall, but alas, there were only so many steps and soon enough she was facing the grand room. It was artfully decorated as per her mother's orders and now resembled nothing short of an ice palace and felt quite as cold.

Easton unwillingly let her clammy hands off the railing and dived straight into the crowd to let it envelop her. She could definitely feel the effects of the Firewhiskey then, for her head was feeling pleasantly fuzzy, her body somehow free of any pressure as she sauntered through the crowd smiling and indulging in small talks with some people.

"We, the Ministry workers, care a great deal about what is transpiring in the walls of our great alma mater. Say, dearie, how are you faring at Hogwarts?"

As of the last ten minutes, Easton was conversing with a toadlike woman who for some reason made her uneasy. People who smiled too widely always seemed suspicious to her.

"I'm doing quite well, madam. See, I like to think of myself as a...prodigy of sorts," the woman's brow rose in interest at these words. Easton nodded in confirmation, "Yes-yes, top of the class, almost received more OWLs that Madam McGonagall," she added with a solemn expression on her face.

"Is that so," gaped the lady, who resembled a little pig in her sickeningly pink robes, "and what would you say about your Headmaster?"

"Oh, he is simply spectacular, that great man," Easton exclaimed in the manner she had heard her mother do on many occasions. "I truly hope he can put an end to the atrocities the Wizarding World is facing these days."

At this, the petite woman's eyes glistened with mirth, her smile widening and becoming even more murderous.

"You think so?" she asked, her voice high.

"Oh I most certainly do," Easton assured her with a smile."Say, Ms. Umbridge, what do you think about Hitler?"

"Pardon?" The woman batted her eyelashes.

"Oh, I must have said it wrong, I meant Lo—"

"Easton," a deep voice interrupted her, "there you are."

Easton goggled at Regulus, her mind too scattered to truly understand what was going on.

"Good evening, Madam Umbridge. Would you terribly mind it if I stole Miss Greengrass for a minute?"

The lady-in-pink let out a disgustingly girly giggle and smiled at the youngest Black.

"Why sure, Mister Black, have a nice evening," she then looked at Easton, her smile decidedly less cheerful. "It was a pleasure talking to you, Miss Greengrass."

"Oh, likewise, madam," Easton drawled dramatically before Regulus all but hurried her away through the crowd. He did a spectacular job at absolutely ignoring all the colourful profanities she was throwing his way whilst being dragged to the refreshments bar.

At the sight of the champagne flutes, however, the sullen look on Easton's face transformed into that of absolute joy. She looked around to make sure her mother wasn't anywhere near to berate her and, taking no notice of Regulus's puzzled stare, drained the flute in a series of long gulps.

"Circe, I needed that," Easton sighed and picked up another glass. "Want some?" she asked innocently, catching Regulus staring, and took a dainty sip.

"Care to thank me?" he droned instead, his eyes scanning over the hall impassively.

"Oh, yes, thank you for dragging me away like a bag of hippogriff dung, Regulus, that was like, so nice of you," Easton deadpanned and drank some more of the fizzy beverage.

"Do you even know who that woman was?"

She shook her head nonchalantly. "Not really, no."

"Well, she works for the Ministry. Does Dolores Umbridge ring a bell?"

Easton thought for a minute.

"Nah, but it does sound rather terrible."

"Umbridge is an ambitious harpy. Made quite a name for herself by kissing every pureblood arse in the nearest vicinity of her face—"

Easton wrinkled her nose in disgust, "Ew, Black!"

"—which means that everything she hears, she reports," he said pointedly. "I would very much advise you not to go throwing His name around so flippantly, Greengrass. You might not fear it but it doesn't mean you shouldn't."

For a second Easton thought that Regulus's words had truly sobered her up. Her other self, however, had a different idea as she let out a silly snicker. "We should so come up with a code name for him! Okay, give me a second."

Easton looked wistfully into the distance, you could truly see the great mind at work, and then suddenly jumped in elation. "Got it! How about His Dark Highness?" she whispered with a mysterious wiggle of her brows.

Regulus stayed apathetic and was patiently waiting until Easton realised how utterly exasperating she was being. She didn't, however. "You don't like it? Alright, what do you think about Mola Ram? Know who that is?" Regulus didn't acknowledge her question in any way. She sighed, "Yeah, didn't think so. Listen—"

A sound of a slap thundered through the sickening classical music that filled the hall. Everybody's attention was drawn to the center of the room, where Easton spotted her cousin Marius with his hand pressed against his cheek and a girl, who practically Avada'd him before stalking away.

"Yay, go Slytherin," Easton cheered meekly and sipped on her champagne some more.

"What was that about?" Regulus inquired, suddenly interested.

Easton was on cloud nine to finally be of some assistance. "Oh, well, that was Susanna Davies. My cousin's forgotten he dated her for two years back in Hogwarts," she narrated dutifully and snorted. "Seems like he won't make that mistake again. And this is my aunt Medea," Easton pointed with no discretion whatsoever to the prissy blond woman, who was talking with a group of pureblood hens, now and then letting out a cackle of a laugh she'd probably rehearsed in front of a mirror to perfect.

"She is married to Prometheus Nott, the old git, there he is, chatting up my sister. Anywho, my point is—see that bonny lad over there?" Easton asked with a thick Scottish accent, this time pointing to the man in his late twenties, who was conversing with Evan and her father, "Well, that's Xander Zabini—aka dear auntie's ickle boy-toy aka beast in the sheets, according to Medea, that is, I wouldn't know, " Easton let out a nervous little laugh, "aka shameless manwhore but hey, I'm not judging, and my auntie most certainly doesn't," she giggled.

Regulus kept his peace during this feat of drunken blabbering before finally speaking up in a very curious tone, "is something the matter, Easton?"

"Aren't you observant—a true Slytherin. _In Slytherin you'll make your real friends, those cunning folks use any means to achieve their ends_ ," Easton sang in a low alto, which was supposed to sound like the Sorting Hat's.

"It seems you've had enough," Regulus pointed out.

"Sweet Circe, you simply _must_ apply to the Auror programme," Easton exclaimed with pure sarcasm. However, an instant later she seemed to be deep in thought, "You know what, no, it would probably defeat the purpose, seeing as...well, with you being..." she leaned in closer to Regulus to whisper dramatically, "a Death Easter and all. You can't very well send yourself to Azkaban, can you? That would be just sad."

Easton brought the flute to her lips to take a sip of champagne again when with utter devastation she realized there was no more left. To fix that, Easton quickly reached to grab another glass but, unfortunately, her reflexes weren't sharp enough in such state (not that they were when she was sober) so Regulus easily blocked her hand from reaching her goal.

Easton raised her eyebrow at him, "Well, that's just plain rude. Hasn't Mummy taught you it is ungallant of a man to deprive a woman her needs? Bad pureblood, Regulus," she chided in a way one would scold a dog.

However, the champagne was fast forgotten as soon as her wandering cerulean eyes stumbled upon a face fit for Hollywood movie posters.

 _Dark'n'broodin's just the way we like 'em._

"What?" Regulus asked in revulsion. Apparently, Easton had said it out loud.

"I said that I wouldn't mind _translating his runes_ ," she giggled like a third year Hufflepuff. Regulus followed her gaze, and his stormy grey eyes turned the colour of mercury.

"Who's he anyway? "Easton wondered conversationally, apparently missing the way her companion's face had darkened.

"That's Rabastan Lestrange," he replied reluctantly after a long pause, which seemed to have gone unnoticed by Easton too.

Her jaw almost hit the floor, "Rodolphus's brother?" she exclaimed in disbelief. "Well now we know why Rodolphus looks so ghastly–his brother totally won the gene lottery," she wanted to sip on her champagne but then remembered there wasn't any and pouted.

"How come I've never seen him before?" she asked and placed the empty flute on the tray of a passing house elf. "Thanks, Ninny," Easton smiled at the humble creature before resuming her thorough probing.

"He had been living in France with their mother, went to Beauxbatons," Regulus said.

Easton's brows rose in surprise. "How come?"

"Do I look like his bosom pal, Greengrass?" he snapped.

Easton shrugged off-handedly, "I don't know, you tell me. Is he a Death Eater too?" She said it with such casualness, she might as well have asked Regulus if he wanted a drink.

At the sound of it, his head jerked and he glared at Easton, eyes solid steel, bearing an awful resemblance to his brother's, "I told you once—".

"He is, then," she concluded plainly, ignoring Regulus's threat.

Suddenly Easton didn't feel that drunk anymore, and Merlin, did she already miss having not a care in the world. The reality came crumbling down on her: the party, the guests, the man standing next to her. Or was he just a boy?

She could feel her hands getting colder and fingers trembling when she tried to get some stray hairs out of her face.

 _Deep breaths._

Easton's eyes were still fixed on the younger Lestrange and, as if sensing he was being watched, Rabastan looked up from his conversation and stared back.

Easton halted and instantly diverted her eyes, her breath hitched for some reason.

"Greengrass?" Regulus called from far away. Was it far away?

She wanted to tell him that everything was okay but no sound came out of her mouth when she opened it.

"For Salazar's sake, Easton..."

"In my purse," she managed to breathe out and handed him a small silvery accessory, "a vial."

Regulus looked at her, completely flabbergasted by the request, but took the purse out of Easton's shaking hands nonetheless to fetch out a small vial filled with blue liquid. As soon as it was out, Easton snatched the potion, uncorked the vial and quickly drank its contents.

"What the fuck, Greengrass?"

Easton could feel her heart slow down, her whole body relax and a thin coat of cold sweat appear on her forehead. With an air of nonchalance, she took a deep breath, took her purse from Regulus (who looked dashing with it by the way) and put the empty vial back into it.

"Greengrass?"

"It was Calming Draught," she explained, "Madam Pomfrey gave it to me the night..." she trailed off awkwardly.

Regulus seemed struck by the news.

"You...you went to the infirmary?"

"Would've passed out if I hadn't. Seems to be happening a lot lately," Easton laughed half-heartedly. And then there was silence. Oh, that sodding silence that seemed to follow her wherever, "You know what, I...I probably have to find my sister."

Regulus raised his brow quizzically.

"Josefine, you must know her, she's...she's in your year. A Ravenclaw. Morgana knows how that happened," Easton snickered. "Oh and she's getting married and all and...ah shit. You...yeah, I shouldn't have said that, they...See, my father wanted to make an official announcement later today. Well, surprise, I guess" Easton smiled sheepishly, awfully wanting to extract herself from this situation. "Anyways, I've got to go. Was super nice talking to you, Black."

"Are you sure everything's fine, Greengrass?" He seemed to have ignored everything she'd said. As per usual.

"What would you do if I said I wasn't?" Easton retorted impatiently.

Regulus didn't answer.

"I'm dandy, Black. Have a nice evening. And please act surprised at the wedding announcement," she gave him a forced smile and hurried off, away from another act of social embarrassment.

Nobody was surprised by the wedding announcement, but faking cheerfulness and astonishment wasn't of much difficulty to a group of pathological hypocrites. Easton was sure that Regulus had no problem with that either.

She had a perfect view on all their masked faces and fake smiles from where she was standing—at her tyrant father's side, next to her exemplary sister and her delusional mother, while the patriarch of the Greengrass family was delivering the happy news. Easton couldn't be happier for having taken the Calming Draught earlier, because if she hadn't, she'd have probably passed out right now.

"Music, please!" Orpheus Greengrass called, and the musicians resumed their ministrations after a short interval.

Easton was ready to dissolve into the crowd again and pretend she was one of the house elves when she felt her mother's soft hand on her arm.

"Easton, darling, what are you wearing?" she asked with a gentle smile on her chiseled face; her voice, however, was wavering with irritation.

Easton looked down at the dress. "Oh, do you like it? I thought you would. It's couture, you see," she said with an air of false importance.

Ophelia Greengrass's left eye twitched.

"But what about the one I bought for you? It was—"

"—not as wonderful as this one," Easton finished for her and smiled the sweetest smile in her arsenal. "Don't worry, Mother dearest, there'll be plenty of other occasions. Weddings, funerals, Merlin's day...

Ophelia regarded her daughter shrewdly and sighed in defeat. "I guess that will do," she pursed her lips thoughtfully and scanned Easton's look critically. "And please, sweetheart, do something with your hair. I can't bear the sight of it." You'd think her mother really was physically hurt by it.

"First thing in the morning, promise," Easton reassured her.

 _Yeah, right._

Ophelia squeezed her daughter's hand affectionately, "I knew you'd see reason. Now off you go, have fun."

 _Oh that I will_ , Easton thought bitterly before walking away.

She thought about having another drink or maybe even seeking out Regulus again but then decided that she'd had way too many adventures for the night and therefore deserved to go back to her room. No one would've noticed her absence anyway, so she could sail into the night having performed her role of a good daughter and supportive sister.

And sail into the night she did. As soon as Easton left the noisy hall, she took off the devilishly uncomfortable shoes and relished in the comfort and silence of the empty parlour. It was quite possibly the first time she wasn't scared to death by being alone in there.

"Tough night?"

"Fuck!" Easton shrieked and jumped away at the sound of the voice, "what the...Oh—"

She froze on the spot, having met the dark eyes of Rabastan Lestrange. He was standing on the lower steps of the staircase, as if just waiting for her to walk in.

"My apologies, I didn't mean to scare you."

Easton felt treacherous chills crawling down her spine at his words.

"It's fine," she replied curtly.

To her dismay, Rabastan continued staring at Easton which was making her feel exceedingly uncomfortable. His obsidian eyes sparkled with devilish lights dancing in their pits. His neatly cut inky hair, his dark robes and that smile that was meant to be inviting yet seemed more frightening than anything...Come closer, it said, don't be afraid, just before eating you whole.

"Why are you leaving?" he asked.

Easton watched him closely. She felt safer knowing exactly where he was.

"It got too loud," she responded.

Rabastan nodded slowly in understanding.

"Why did you leave?" Easton found herself asking, eyes slightly narrowed in suspicion.

"It got too crowded."

Easton shuffled uncomfortably.

"Would it be too presumptuous of me to ask your name?"

He was watching her too, she noted. The way his pitch-black eyes were carefully examining every part of her body as if leaving tiny marks with their presence made her feel too exposed and small under such thorough scrutiny.

"I'm afraid I have to return to the party."

 _Good save, Easton._

"Think it got quieter?" laughed Rabastan.

"I'll let you know," she smiled and made back to the hall.

"But I didn't catch your name."

Easton turned to see Rabastan smirking at her.

"It's Beatrice," she blurted.

His eyes lingered again, and there was no doubt in Easton's mind he'd seen easily through her pathetic lie.

"Well, then, have a great night, Beatrice," Rabastan nodded, his eyes glimmering with something Easton couldn't quite place. "And don't forget to put your shoes back on."

And she loathed that.


	12. Let it Be

❝ **I would like to have no shame. I would like to be ignorant. Then I wouldn't know how ignotant I was.** ❞

 _ **Margaret Atwood "Handmaid's Tale"**_

Rabastan Lestrange became a frequent guest in their house after that party. Easton didn't like it. And then there was the fact that Evan found the best of friends in him, and she certainly didn't like that.

The second time she met Rabastan Lestrange was two days past Yuletide. She had spent a nice and refreshing morning walking in the hills with her sketchbook away from the stuffing walls of the Manor, and returned home giddy with inspiration. Cheeks kissed by the freezing cold, eyes glistening with joy and contentment and with a big knitted scarf one could see on a Hufflepuff around her neck, Easton entered the grounds of the Greengrass Manor adamant on not letting it ruin her mood.

And yet again, fait had other plans in store.

His laugh was the first thing she heard. It resonated through the walls in a deep echo and caught Easton completely unawares in the middle of the entrance hall. At first she thought she was hallucinating from the oxygen overdose but there it was again: the low, thunder-like voice that prickled on Easton's skin, covering it in tiny goosebumps. She couldn't explain such reaction and most definitely couldn't say if it mortified or excited her.

His dark eyes were the first thing Easton saw upon entering the parlor. An abyss of hypnotizing darkness, pulling you deeper the longer you looked into them. Cold yet burning at the same time.  
Was it a good kind of burn, Easton wondered? Somehow she didn't mind turning into ashes.

Her family was there, too, then. They were all very happy to see her, of course, her cousin Evan probably less so than her mother, who for some inexplicable reason said nothing about Easton's horrendous look. That alone should've worried her, come to think of it. But she was too fixed on Rabastan to take notice of that.

He was drinking whiskey. So was her father and Marius, who all seemed almost theatrically busy discussing something undoubtedly very important. The rest were enjoying hot camomile tea, Easton remembered that. Because she hates camomile tea but everyone insists she drinks it for some reason.  
Her mother was subtly but surely interrogating Rabastan later, and he answered each of her probing questions with the grace of a born aristocrat, whilst Easton was devouring all the new information.  
Rabastan talked about his early years in Paris with his mother, his fancy home-schooling and life at Beauxbatons. Finally, when asked why he decided to come to England after all those years, Rabastan replied 'To seek', and Easton could swear his eyes flickered to her for a single moment before he smiled mysteriously and took a sip of the whiskey.

She had trouble sleeping that night. She dreamed of steep cloudy hills, wind in her hair and a dark hand reaching out to her from the starless veil that was hovering in the air.

Rabastan came to almost every dinner, conversed with her father, chatted with her mother and was always seen in Evan's company.

Easton, however, had never exchanged a single word with him. She only watched Rabaston quietly and collected information about him from the bits of the conversations she got to overhear.

It was during the New Year's soiree that they shared an awkward bump-in. Well, awkward on Easton's part and patronizing on Rabastan's, who looked smug and expectant while listening to her apologies.  
Was that a conversation? Hardly. In fact, Easton didn't want to have any sort of conversation with him whatsoever. Rabastan was cold, intimidating and condescending. As well as a Death Eater, now she couldn't forget about _that_.

Every time he looked at her, she felt tainted by the other side. As if by merely being in the same room with him, with those people, with her family was akin to betraying everything she stood for.

Easton prided herself on her high morals. But was she really that different from her family?

Her democratic views on the Wizarding World and the rebellious teenage phase could hardly be counted as a contribution to the fight against discrimination, while she lived under the roof of a bigoted tyrant and attended parties where every gust could easily be _His_ follower.

She was a hypocrite. Easton Greengrass was a pretender, who got too caught up in her own act.

She was looking in the mirror now, her eyes bleary and tired, hair a mess, skin thin and pale—the winter break was meant for students to rest, Easton, however, felt nothing short of exhaustion after the dreadful week. The school was starting the following day and for the first time in six years she couldn't wait to board the train.

"Easton?" Her mother called from behind the closed door.

Distracted from her pondering, Easton blinked away the drowsiness, "You can come in," she replied, her voice too weak to sound vexed by the sudden intrusion.

Ophelia Greengrass slid into the dimly lit bedroom with the fenile grace, wearing exquisite black and silver robes, ash-blond hair pinned back in soft curls, red lipstick on her thin, pursed lips. Come to think of it, Easton had never seen her mother _not_ wearing the arduous color, which, she supposed, was her way of rebelling against the Victorian fashion pure-blooded witches seemed to be so keen on.

Easton loved her mother. Despite being the embodiment of a higher society darling, Ophelia wasn't half as horrendous as the women she was unfortunate enough to encounter at the Ministry parties. She was nagging and imposing, yes, bus she was also understanding, loving and selfless, acting as a mediator between Easton and her father, always trying to straighten things out.  
Easton often wondered why her mother was so in love with her father, to the point where it nearly blinded her.  
Orpheus Greengrass was a cruel, power-hungry, merciless tyrant who only ever took. Never gave.

Easton felt sorry for her mother and despised her at the same time. Despised her weakness, her inability to stand up for herself and be her own person–not just her husband's bland, obedient shadow.  
These thoughts made Easton hate herself.  
Do good people have such thoughts?

Ophelia Greengrass conjured a small chair and sat silently behind her daughter. She then Accio'd a silver comb that was laying on the wooden vanity table and gently collected Easton's short hair into her hand, "You always demanded that I brush your hair before bed when you were little," she recalled distantly. Easton saw her mother smile in the reflection, "Whenever I asked a house elf to do it, you would burst into tears and call for me. Your father was furious, Ophelia laughed and began brushing Easton's rather short red locks. Her hair had grown quite a bit since September but it was nowhere near as long as it had been before.

A serene silence set between the two of them before Easton spoke up, "Mum," she said unsurely. Ophelia looked up with an affectionate smile, urging her to continue, "Why do you love him?"

The question didn't startle her, as Easton had expected. She didn't even blink or think twice before replying, "I don't have a choice."

At that Easton jerked her head away from her mother's gentle ministrations and turned to look at her, "What do you mean you don't have a choice? Everyone does, it is our right—"

Ophelia, unfazed by her daughter's rage, forced Easton to return to her initial position and went on brushing her hair as if nothing had happened.

"Have I ever told you how your father and I came to be together?"

Easton huffed, "You were sold to him or something?"

"We met at Hogwarts, in fact. Your father was much older, a seventh year. I was but thirteen," Ophelia narrated as if she was telling a fairy tale,"However calling it a "meeting" would be quite an exaggeration, for he paid me no mind and I was more interested in my owl. No, we "met" long after he had graduated, in my seventh year, to be exact, and at a Yule party, believe it or not."

"He had a respectable job at the Ministry, came from a noble family and our fathers were good friends. Well, as good as two self-important pure-blooded snobs could be," Easton almost choked on her spit at these words, "See, they disagreed on a variety of things, but were able to find common ground in the purity of their lineages, which would certainly benefit both of our families."

"We held the bonding ceremony the day of my graduation that I, unfortunately, had to miss. Three years after, we had you, and a year later—your sister," for the first time during that story her mother's eyes lightened up with something resembling happiness, "I think your father still blames me for not giving him any heirs but, truthfully, I wouldn't have it any other way. Greengrass men are quite something, darling, It wouldn't do to hate my own son, now would it?" Ophelia laughed.

"I do love him. I didn't at first," she amended, "but I learned to, with time. There is some goodness within him still, your father, Easton. So I was presented a choice: I could lead a miserable life with a man I didn't love or make an effort and find it in me to close my eyes at his errors."

"And you chose the second," Easton concluded solemnly, giving in to the slumber caused by her mother's caring touch.

"And I chose the second."

And just like that, something clicked in her mind. No more was she sleepy or tired. Akin to a dog who'd got a whiff, Easton looked at her mother in the reflection, her eyes glistening with avid suspicion.

"Why are you telling me this? I mean, it's always nice to hear how your mother was married off to a stranger against her will, but why now?"

Ophelia squirmed uncomfortably. She put the comb away and raised from the conjured chair, taking a sit on Easton's bed instead, all under her daughter's baffled stare.

"I suppose it is confusing,"

Easton scoffed, "You could certainly say that."

Her mother locked her fingers and placed the crafted lock on her thighs, not particularly eager to start the conversation.

"Is there anything you maybe...want to tell me?" Easton prompted impatiently.

"Easton..." Ophelia sighed, "your father and I have been talking..."

 _Oh bugger_

"...and we couldn't but but discuss your future"."

"Okay," Easton laughed, though somewhat nervously, as if talking herself out of what she knew was coming, "And how bleak is it? My future."

Ophelia ignored her antics and simply went on, "With Josefine getting engaged, we have...been thinking that maybe we could arrange something for you as well."

Easton just sat there, blinking as an empty-headed porcelain doll. And apparently, her mother took it as a good sign, for she decided to go on, "You must have noticed that our house has been quite...full recently."

"Indeed I did," Easton seethed, gracing Ophelia with a leveled stare that perfectly hid the raging storm brewing behind her cerulean eyes.

"The Lestranges are a respectable family amongst our people."

It was an eye contest now—who would be the first to break. Ophelia didn't enjoy being the bearer of the news and avoided the very essence of it, skirting the main point anyway she could and wouldn't give it up. Easton, however, wasn't an idiot and easily put two and two together just by looking at her mother.  
Easton was shaking now from all the pent up anger and grief. Grief for herself, for the future she might have had.  
Tears welled up in her eyes but she didn't dare shed one of them.

Rabastan Lestrange. _Rabastan Lestrange_.  
Oh, the mysterious man whose presence wasn't half as mysterious now.  
Not a twist of fate but greed, snobbery and her filthy pure blood had served to bringing the snake into their midst.  
Should she even be surprised?  
No, what she was supposed to be is furious–at her own naivety and stupidity, for how had she not seen it coming?

"Is he in his study?" Easton asked, her voice flat and cold.

It was plain who " _he_ " was.

"Easton, now listen to me," Ophelia instantly stood up, eyes filled with worry, "do not do anything rash. You are blinded by your fury—"

"Out of my way, Mother."

"If you would just hear me out, Easton—"

"No!" Easton suddenly yelled, red-faced, "Why should I hear you out when all you've been doing for the past seventeen years is ignore me? I'm done," she stated firmly, "I'm leaving—"

"Easton, do not do anything you will later regret."

She only laughed at this.

"If there is one thing I won't regret it's leaving this wretched house, Mother. But first I need to tell him," Easton took hold of her wand and headed to the door, her body on fire from the sudden surge of adrenaline, "I want to see his face."

"Easton, see reason!"

But all she saw was red. All she felt was the smooth wood of her wand in her palm. All she heard was the rapid pounding of her heart in her temples.

"Father!" she screamed walking down the stairs to his study room.

No more. No bloody more.

"Alohomora!"

The door flew open at the spell, and Easton walked in, breathless. Her blazing eyes instantly landed on Orpheus Greengrass—sitting in his leather throne, giving his daughter a cool level stare over the rim of the whiskey glass. What Easton saw next rendered her completely and utterly speechless: in her father's study were sitting Lucius Malfoy, Orion Black and...Rabastan Lestrange, accompanied by his older brother.

He sent her a knowing half-smirk, but before Easton could react to this, her father's voice thundered through the room, "Easton?" Orpheus demanded in his usual passive aggressive manner, "Did you need something, child?"

Did she? _Oh damn right she did._

Almost demonstratively dismissing Rabastan, Easton's eyes returned to the original recipient of her rage, "We need to talk," she stated coldly, feeling the four guests watching their interaction.

"I am sure whatever it is, it can wait—"

"It can not."

She stood her ground admirably, and after some time Orpheus put the glass of Firewhisky away, "Very well then," he said as he rose from the armchair, "Gentlemen, I will be back shortly," Orpheus nodded to his guests curtly and followed Easton out of the study and into the parlor.

"Care to explain yourself, Easton?"

"It is exactly what I was going to ask _you_ , funnily enough," she countered with a snarky laugh, "now you've stolen my opening line, and I'm kind of bumped."

Orpheus was looking at Easton expectedly with evident exasperation that was bound to turn into anger in a matter of minutes.

"Whatever childish game you are playing now, Easton, I suggest you stop it this instant."

"Games, father?" Easton rose her brow, "I think _you_ are rather keen on playing those, wouldn't you say?" She stepped closer to him, arms crossed on her chest, "Malfoy, Lestranges, Black—is this some kind of elaborate "finer things" club where you discuss the newest Ministry gossip and eat biscuits?"

"State your business or leave, Easton. Salazar knows I have more important things to do," Orpheus hissed.

"Why surely, father. You are, after all, a busy man. Conspiracies to plot, people to torture," Easton listed, and with every word her heart beat faster, " _psychotic dark wizards to follow._ "

Once the words left her mouth, Easton knew there was no taking them back. There was no lying or pretending it was a terrible mistake—they were out there, hanging in the air between them, and all she could do was watch her father's eyes get even colder, posture stiffer and lips thinner, curled in a ghost of a smirk.

"There is a thin line laying between bravery and sheer stupidity, Easton," he said calmly. Too calmly, "I am afraid you are but steps away from crossing it. I would advice you against it."

"As you would _advice_ me to marry Rabastan?"

At this Orpheus's face broke into a smile, and he shook his head, laughing.

"I should have anticipated this reaction."

"I'm not doing it," Easton sounded small, unsure. Just as she felt.

"But you are, darling," Orpheus placated in a sweet, condescending tone, "Everything has already been settled. With His blessing, the bonding ceremony will be held this Spring break."

"His blessing?"

"You know perfectly well who I am talking about."

"Oh, I do know. What I _don't_ know, father, is how this concerns _Him_?"

"The Dark Lord cares much about the purity of magical blood—any such alliance is of great importance to him. In fact, it was He who suggested that Rabastan pick you as his future bride."

She felt sick. It was like someone hit her right in the stomach—hard, mercilessly, repeatedly—when she felt it lurch and fall, and all she could do was try not to vomit. Not only was she going to be the bride of a Death Eater but it was His call. He brought the sentence. He decided her fait. He ruined her life.

"No," was all she could muster.

"It is not a suggestion, Easton."

"No...I'm—"

 _Do not cry. Don't you dare..._

"I'm not going to do it," Easton mumbled more to herself than out loud and looked up at her father's indifferent face, "I'm not marrying Rabastan. I will not follow His orders—he may be your master but sure as hell not mine."

Orpheus was looking at Easton closely. No, not _at_ her, but _through_ her as if turning her words over in his mind, calculating, plotting, deciding what do to, what to say. He then refocused his eyes, and his attention was back at Easton—bored and chilling.

"You are a part of this family, Easton, whether you like it or not. And with that come certain obligations," Orpheus explained as if talking to a little child, "You will do as you are told or I will have to resort to more persuasive tactics."

Easton's eyes instantly darted to the wand Orpheus was holding in his right hand ready to prove his intentions. She glared back at him with disgust and anguish, with an anger of the little girl whose dreams have just been crashed into nothingness, turning into dust in the air thick with tension and anticipation.

"Wouldn't be the first time," she responded casually, clenching her own wand in her sweaty palm, "Hurt me all you want, father, but one day you'll wake up and I will be gone—far away from you, this wretched house, the Wizarding world, your _Lord_ ," she almost spit out the last word, "Gone."

"And what about Josefine?"

She didn't expect that. And Orpheus didn't miss the shock in her eyes.

"What do you think will happen to her should you selfishly refuse and leave? Or haven't you thought about it?" He pressed further, enjoying the desired affect, "And your mother? Me? The Dark Lord will not be pleased with our family, and when he is not pleased, he tortures, he _kills_ —is that what you want?" Orpheus nearly whispered, unbothered by the tears welling in his daughter's eyes, "There will be no use nor mercy for a family of blood traitors. Can you really bear it knowing that you have let down our entire family—"

"Stop!" Easton yelled and stepped away, "Stop! Just—just shut up!"

And Orpheus did. He said no more, his face an unmoving mask. Easton looked at him with round eyes, shaking from fear.  
No, she thought, she wouldn't bear it.  
Orpheus fixed his robes, making sure that they looked impeccable, and looked at Easton, "Very well," he nodded, "I am glad we had this talk. Now you should return to your room, Easton—it is rather late, and you have a train to catch tomorrow, " and he left to return to his study.

For a couple of minutes Easton just stood in the empty parlor, unable to move. She then finally found it in her to climb the stairs to her room—her mother was standing in the corridor there, pleading with Easton...to do what, Easton wondered? To reassure her? Tell her how happy she was? Tell her that she didn't blame her? Did she want her to lie?

So Easton said nothing. She walked past Ophelia and entered her room, shutting the door.  
It was so quiet. So calm. It was also scary. Because she was alone. Truly, really alone. And this time she couldn't help but feel lonely, too.  
She walked to the old record player and put on one of the few vinyls that were laying on the shelves—"Let it Be" by the Beatles.

 _How ironic_

The silencing charm was already on, so once the music started playing, Easton leaned on her bed frame and just closed her eyes.

 **And in my hour of darkness**

 **She is standing right in front of me**

 **Speaking words of wisdom**

 **Let it be**

Easton felt wetness on her cheeks and only then realized she was crying.  
She had no one to help her, no one to speak the words of wisdom and show her the right path.  
For her there was none. And if there had been, it was now taken away.

There would be no answer.

And so Easton screamed. Out loud, at the top of her lungs, ripping her vocal chords into shreds, she screamed into the nothingness, and cried. How she wanted to have someone to yell at, to throw fists—just a living person, but all she had was her pillows that were now scattered across the room.

"Fuck you!" She screamed and ripped one of her posters. And then another one, and another. The one with the peace sign made her laugh almost hysterically at the irony. Easton destroyed everything she saw, crying and laughing, surrounded by chaos. The record played was the last to be thrown across the room into the wall, John Lennon's voice dying with its last breaths.

It was now quite once again. Deadly quiet.

"It that what you wanted, father?" Easton asked, voice hoarse and cracked. Her wondering eyes suddenly fell on the wand laying on the floor—she picked it up with vigor determination and walked to the tall mirror.  
Easton took a deep breath and brought the tip of the wand to her hair, screaming " _Calavaria_ ", but nothing happened. She repeated the incantation over and over again until she felt sparks hit her face. When Easton opened her eyes, her hair was its usual brown color, save for a few red locks, and there was a small burn on her forehead.  
Her eyes were puffy and red, cheeks wet with tears, lips cracked and bloody from all the biting—she was a mess. Disgusting.

 _Can you really bear letting down our entire family?_

 _You're a disgrace to own family!_

 _Do not disappoint me again, Easton._

 _Disgrace...freak...alone...helpless..._

A loud crack resonated through the room, accompanied by a scream. Easton clutched her right fist in the other hand, doubling over from the searing pain.

"Fuck...fuck, fuck..." she whispered. Glass was scattered across the wooden floor now, specs of it stuck in her skin. Easton's reflection was now distorted by the crack her fist left in the mirror, where she could see a dozen pairs of the same eyes looking back.  
Unable to stand still, Easton fell to the floor and started crying again. She hated it. Hated herself. Hated Hogwarts. Hated magic. Hated her family.

What if she died?

She'd like that.

But what would her father make Josefine do if she wasn't there to take the fall? She had to stand still. For her sister and her mother, who didn't know better. If they were blind, she'd see for the both of them.

 **A/N:** Hey guys! I am so so so sorry for the long absence! The uni was terrible, as usual, and I had to take the finals, so there's that. But I'm back on track now with the weekly updates yay (hopefully!)  
Did anyone spot The Office reference?)  
Anyways, thank II for reading! Please vote and comment to support the story and poor Easton!

Xxx see you next week


	13. Trailer! YAY

**Hey guys! It's not a chapter, I'm sorry BUT! It's still pretty cool because...**

 **I'm so excited to finally present to you the trailer for the "Oblivion"! YAY! Actually I was supposed to leave the link to it in the next chapter (which is coming soon, I promise!) but I couldn't wait for you guys to see it!**

 **Seeing as you can't really post a link here, just copy and paste this thingy to this (I know, I'm a pro at explaining things):**

 **The link to YouTube (obviously lol) +** **"watch?v=1ImT5DigeYk &t=2s" **

**If this doesn't work, just type in R.I.P 2 my Youth || Marauders era (fanfiction trailer)** **" on YouTube, and the trailer should pop up somewhere on the first page!**

 **I really hope you'll like it 3**


	14. A Death Eater and a coward

**A/N: Hey guys! Sorry for the long break, again (cough-cough). That one is not justified by anything other than me being a lazy arse. Anyways, I hope you'll enjoy this chapter! Please leave your comments, I really want to know what you guys think!**

 **Lots of love, Mary xoxox**

" **We are all born free**

 **and spend a lifetime**

 **becoming slaves**

 **to our own**

 **false truths."**

 _ **Atticus Poetry, Love Her Wild**_

Josefine Greengrass was afraid.

Now, fear is, doubtless, a most natural thing to experience in one's being, but the thing with Josefine Greengrass was that she had never before felt anything like it. It should also be said that Josefine Greengrass was by far not _fearless_. Merlin knows she had her own worries. However, being afraid _for_ someone and not _of_ something had, in fact, quite a difference. A difference that Josefine Greengrass hadn't been aware of before.

She was sat beside her older sister, who was staring blankly into the bowl of tasteless porridge, dragging her spoon back and forth. Orpheus Greengrass was engrossed in the newest issue of the Daily Prophet while his wife Ophelia busied herself by putting butter on the toast as though it were a canvas.

The tension at the table was so palpable you could cut through it with a Severing Charm. Josefine brought the tea cup to her lips and scanned the table over its rim, her doe eyes quickly registering that something was indeed the matter. So she spoke up.

"Trevor says we'll be visiting his cousin this summer," she said, instantly drawing her mother's attention.

"Will you really?"

"Oh, yes. He was appointed to the French Ministry as a liaison. Their family invited us over for a visit," Josefine explained dutifully.

"That is certainly very nice of them," Ophelia smiled a tired smile.

"I didn't know the Higgs had French ties," Orpheus said from behind the newspaper.

Josefine faltered. Ophelia stopped buttering the toast. Easton didn't show it but she listened in closely, for the conversation promised to be a wild ride.

"That's because they don't," Josefine mumbled.

"Ah," was all Orpheus replied with as he tore his eyes away from the newspaper, folded and placed it on the table next to him.

" _ **Unspeakable Buggady found murdered in his own house. Can the Ministry be trusted?**_ " read the title, and Easton felt so utterly nauseous she had to shut her eyes to pull herself together.

"How so?"

"They're not quite close", Josefine amended, her eyes even bigger with anxiety, "He's–"

"–Another pureblood no one gives a flying snitch about, moving on," Easton groaned in exasperation and dropped the sodding spoon into her porridge, "Let's go, shall we, Josie? Lest we miss the train," she added the last part dramatically.

All eyes were on Easton, surprised that she had spoken up for the first time in days.

"Come on," she left her seat and looked to Josefine expectedly, "We don't have all day! Marius will apparate us, hurry."

"Easton–"

"Goodbye, mother," she smiled tightly. The woman looked so ghastly pale, she seemed almost grey.

"Write soon," Ophelia said at last and returned to buttering the toast.

"Be sure to, Easton," added Orpheus with a tagging smile on his thin lips.

Easton measured him with a searing glare and then grabbed the flummoxed Josefine by the arm only to drag her away to the entrance hall.

"Are you daft, Josie?" Easton whisper-yelled when they were at a safe distance away from their parents, "Why did you even mention your fiancée's muggleborn cousin?"

Josefine looked like she was about to cry, her eyes glistening, lower lip quivering dangerously.

"I–I...I don't know! I panicked!"

"Panicked?" Easton asked skeptically.

"I just...It was so uncomfortable. The silence. Father and mother acting weirder than usual." Easton's face then softened, and she's stepped a little away from her younger sister.

"Did something happen?" Josefine uttered timidly. She'd been meaning to ask this for a while now, but had never had the courage.

Yes, Josefine Greengrass was selfish, there was no denying that. But it didn't mean she didn't care, not necessarily. It's just that most of the time, she simply decided not to. This, however, was not the case. She could see her older sister withering away with each passing day, her cheerful and quirky demeanour changing into nothingness.

She couldn't _not_ care anymore. Not when it made her afraid. Have I mentioned that Josefine Greengrass was quite selfish?

They were standing in the dreary hall of the Manor now, two sisters, two completely different people drifting further apart with each passing year.

Josefine looked hopeful.

Easton wanted to be.

A thin thread of peace could be seen appearing between the two girls. So fragile yet stronger then anything they had shared for many years.

"Nothing ever does," and just like that the fragile connection was broken within seconds, "Let's go, Marius will be waiting."

Platform 9 3/4 looked nothing like the cheerful and bright place, filled with smiles, laughter and student chatter Easton had known it to be. It was now gloomy, cold, snowy and almost deserted—many parents had decided not to send their kids back to Hogwarts due to the horrors written in the Daily Prophet. And those who did, did so with distress and uncertainty, unwilling to part with their children during such dangerous times.

"You okay back there?" Marius asked with an obviously fake jolly smile.

Happiness these days was something rather hard to feel in earnest. You could either talk yourself into believing everything was peachy or accept the dreadful reality of things and move on. Easton despised lies, even if it was lying to herself, so her choice was rather obvious.

She was sulking behind Marius and Josefine, a bag on her shoulder because she had insisted that she'd take it herself instead of letting Marius levitate it to the train, hair a mess, eyes bleary and red-rimmed. Even the scarlet Hogwarts Express looked plain and unexciting, not that it had ever been anything _but_ to Easton.

As they arrived at the train, Josefine gave Marius a curt hug.

"Goodbye," she smiled _warmly_ , to Easton's surprise, and climbed onto the train.

"Goodbye, Josie."

Before getting in to find her compartment and join Trevor as soon as possible, however, Josefine turned around, "You coming?" she asked, looking at her older sister.

"Ye—"

"She'll be there in a moment," Marius cut in sweetly.

Easton rolled her eyes. _Typical._

Josefine was looking worryingly at the two siblings, hesitating whether she should stay or leave, her doe eyes bouncing left and right like snitches.

"Right, I'll be inside then," she decided at last. She gave Marius and Easton one last suspicious once-over before halfheartedly going inside.

Somehow, Easton wasn't surprised. She knew it was coming from the way Marius was always looking at her with slightly narrowed eyes as if trying to literally see what was going on.

"Something you want to tell me, Easton?" no cheerfulness. Not even _fake_ cheerfulness. Just raw honestly in his almost pleading blue eyes that so resembled her own.

Easton adjusted the strap of the bag on her shoulder and diverted her eyes to the side to avoid looking at him.

"Nope."

"Don't give me this bull," she wasn't used to seeing Marius serious, dangerously so even. However, It wasn't enough to get her to look at him, "I'm giving you a chance to be honest here."

At that, she turned to him, puzzled, "Pardon? You're giving me a chance? How very Evan of you, Marius," she bit. Marius rolled his eyes and ran his right hand through his glossy locks that looked so much more alluring then her result of a pathetic spell-work.

"I want you to trust me, Easton, so I don't have to make you tell me..." he lowered his voice, "that my psycho of an uncle made you marry a fucking Lestrange." _That_ she hadn't anticipated.

Marius's truly beautiful face looked flushed from the pent up fury as he stepped away a little to give himself some space. He was truly and utterly pissed.

"First of all," Easton spoke up as a matter-of-factly, after she'd recovered from shock, "We're not married–" "

– _yet_ ".

"–it's just a promise. There wasn't even a proposal–"

Marius laughed which made her want to slap him like many women had before. "We both know who has approved it," he shook his head, "This ' _promise_ ' might as well have been an Unbreakable Vow."

"But–"

"Listen," Marius said, imploring Easton to look it him, which she finally did, her eyes misty with tears, "No matter what, we stick together, alright, little cousin? There are many things they can take away from us Easton, but _who_ we are is not one of them."

He was scared. And what a truly striking revelation that was.

Easton could easily see fear glistening in his eyes now. The fear he had been concealing so masterfully that whole time. But were they in it together? She couldn't be sure. Marius was a man, after all, and she was but a woman–a disposable pawn in the pathetic game for power.

"It is not taking when you're willing to give it away, Marius," she whispered weakly and boarded the train under the bewildered gaze of her cousin,

She only hoped the ride would be peaceful.

There were exactly three times in Lily Evan's life when she could say she was truly impressed, shocked even. The first being, naturally, when one summer day Minerva McGonagall _herself_ appeared in the Evans' modest residence to proclaim their youngest daughter a witch.

The second time occurred in their fifth year, when Lily Evans realized that her Boggart was…a boy. Trying to kiss her. Yes, it was terrible and nearly impossible to live down and Marlene still continuously terrorized her about it.

As for the third time...well, it was right now, as Lily Evans sat at the unplanned Prefects' meeting (arranged by James Potter), listening to _James Potter_ talk about the rounds' schedule. To _James Potter_ actually talk about something that wasn't Quidditch. And about _rounds' schedule_ no less. Was she dreaming?

It was possible, because she had barely had any sleep the night before. Lily had been too busy finishing the book Mary had lent her, see. Every time she told herself it was time to go to bed, something positively enthralling happened and she couldn't bare not knowing if Thorfynn and Priscilla ended up together at last.

But Lily was very much _not_ asleep. She even pinched herself hard enough to leave a bruise, and James was still explaining Valerie Dillington the meticulous chart. That _he_ had filled out.

"Alright, Evans?"

Lily blinked rapidly, as if something had got into her eye.

"Ha?"

James smiled, "I asked if you were okey with the chart?"

"Yes. S-sure, it's quite…adequate," she allowed with a nod.

"Really?"

"Well I said so, didn't I?"

 _Oh, would you stop smiling…_

"Alright then, the meeting is over!" James announced much too loudly for Madam Pince's taste. The uppity witch sent a deathly glare his way, which Potter gladly ignored and gave Lily a little wink. This sign of absolutely unwanted attention made her cheeks grow irritatingly warm, and Lily started to quickly collect her things.

"Have a nice day, Evans," she heard James say when she hurriedly passed him in the doorway.

"Yeah, whatever," Lily murmured and practically ran out of the library, adamant on not letting James bloody Potter see her blush like a silly maiden. But Merlin, was that wink and that toothy grin of his so…

 _Stop it this instant, Lily Janine Evans!_

She couldn't help but wonder if a Bludger had hit him in the head during the holidays because that and that only would explain how James Potter had become…normal. More then so. He was actually likable and…helpful?

It was much easier to hate him when there was actually something she could hate him _for_. And now? The chart was actually pretty decent and he hadn't said one inappropriate thing the whole time they had been together.

"Oh, marvelous!" Lily practically yelled as she spotted Mary coming out of the Divination classroom, "Here you are!"

The girl reminded Lily of a little elf with her short curly hair, pointy nose and a pair of huge, hazel eyes that were now looking at her with serenity and wonder.

"I told you yesterday that Saturn is transit, Lils! Oh, I knew it, something's happened, hasn't it?"

"What? No! I'm just…confused, that's all," Lily proceeded down the corridor to go meet up with Marlene in the Common Room.

"About what?"

"Things," Lily replied ominously, "like…life, Transfiguration, Quidditch–"

Mary smiled knowingly, "Quidditch, ha? Any particular Chaser on your mind?"

Lily bit her lip and turned to Mary with a grimace of pain on her face, "I don't think I can hate him anymore, Mary."

"Oh, Lils…"

"Tell me something disgusting about him!"

Mary thought for a second. It wasn't really that hard, "Oh, I know! Like…like that time he tried to put out a candle with a fart? Or…or that one time he actually licked Sirius's face because…why did he lick his face anyway?" the mystery of it really seemed to trouble her.

"God, Mary," Lily whined, "What do I do?"

"Stop being an idiot? Choco-Loco," Mary dictated the password, and they stepped into portrait hole and into the Common Room.

"Something a bit easier?" Lily called, walking behind her.

The room was empty except for Marlene, who was sitting cross-legged on the floor, her shiny blond locks hanging around her face as curtain while she scribbled something on the parchment. She didn't even notice the two girls come in.

"Marls, we have a situ–wait," Mary squinted her eyes at all the books scattered on the table, "You wench! Is that the Herbology essay you're writing?" Mary yelled, looking utterly betrayed.

Marlene instantly stopped and lifted her eyes at the furious girl.

"I can explain–"

"We agreed we weren't writing it until Thursday!"

Lily just stood aside, watching the scene in irritation. It was her time to whine, after all.

"I know, I'm sorry! But Sirius is busy with some horrendous project now with Peter and this is the only time I can get this essay done without him distracting me!".

Mary considered the excuse for a couple of seconds until she finally plopped down on the floor next to Marlene in a sign of peace.

"You're still a wench, just so you know" she grumbled.

"I sure am," Marlene laughed.

Lily gave out a loud sigh of despair as she fell into a soft armchair. Marlene raised an eyebrow at her, "Who pissed in your cauldron, Lils?"

"Potter," she seethed through gritted teeth.

"You know, I think he actually did that once," Mary recalled distantly.

"Stop!"

"Oh right, fourth year!"

They two girls burst out laughing.

"Would you stop? It's serious! No, shut up, Marlene, don't you dare make this joke or I swear to God–"

"But she's not Sirius, _I_ am, Lily Flower," came the suave baritone.

Lily had to close her eyes and take a deep breath not to have an actual nervous breakdown. She opened them just in time to see Sirius jump onto the nearby sofa unceremoniously. Arms behind his head, he looked at the girls with an idiotic smile.

"What're you gossiping about, _ladies_?"

Lily sent Marlene a truly deathly glare and shook her head murderously as if saying ' _don't you dare'_.

"Why you, of course," the blond responded sweetly and rose from her place to join her boyfriend. Marly lowered her face to his and gave him a little peck on the lips, but Sirius was quick to wrap his arms around her and pulled Marlene closer, deepening the kiss.

"Yuck, get a room!" Mary protested, looking away from the scene, "Lily, points! It's atrocious."

"Leave them be, Mary, maybe they will finally eat each other and we won't have to deal with them anymore," Lily droned and raised from the armchair, "Let's head to dinner. See you in hell, Marlene!"

The blond managed to flip the Head Girl the middle finger and then giggled when Sirius did something she would later call ' _positively devious'_.

 _Pathetic._

"You remember Easton Greengrass, right?" asked Lily Evans quite suddenly. The question wasn't motivated by anything other then her piqued curiosity, as she'd noticed that the Slytherin girl was absent from her table.

"Yeah, why?" Mary tried to follow her friend's eyes but couldn't understand what it was she was looking at.

"Just haven't seen her around lately," Lily replied and sent a spoon of puffy mash into her mouth.

"Maybe she's sick?"

"Maybe."

"Look," Mary nudged Lily with her elbow and nodded towards a girl, who was nearing their table. And by the looks of it, she was nearing _them_ , "That's Penelope Abbott."

Lily's brows rose, "Easton's friend?" she whispered.

Mary nodded. She clearly wanted to say something else but didn't have the time because Penelope was already too close. "Hey," the girl smiled a bit anxiously, "you probably don't know me…"

"Penelope Abbott, " Lily interrupted to the Hufflepuff's surprise, "You're friends with Easton Greengrass, right?"

"You could say that. Been doing a shitty job at it though," she murmured.

Lily and Mary looked puzzled.

"I kind of…abandoned her, wrapped up in the bubble of love and all," Penelope explained, " I felt terrible and wanted to apologies to her but she wouldn't answer any of my letters and now I can't even get to her at school", she sounded more troubled with each word, as if the reality of the situation was just downing on her.

"So you haven't seen her either?"

Penelope shook her head, "I got a glimpse of her at CMC…"

"CMC?" Mary asked.

"Oh, that's short for Care of Magical Creatures," Penelope supplied, "Easton came up with it," she added as a sad afterthought, "She barely talked to me and then she just…ran away? I don't know, at first I thought she was simply avoiding me because of what a shite I had been, but then she goes and skips Muggle Studies and Divination–which she _never_ does– _then_ I figured something was wrong. I wanted to ask you if you've seen her lately, had any tutoring sessions maybe?" Penny looked painfully hopeful.

"I'm sorry, Penelope, but I'm afraid I haven't seen her either," Lily said, "I was actually hoping you'd know what's going on."

Penelope sighed and put her messy hair in a ponytail only to get it out of her face, "I wish." She looked really pale, Lily noticed, and shaken, "I even tried to talk to her sister Josefine but she is being all cryptic and totally unhelpful, as always. Did you know she's getting married?"

"What?" Lily exclaimed, exchanging shocked looks with Mary.

"Yeah, to Trevor Higgs this summer. God, she's only _sixteen_."

"Maybe that's why Easton's been so…secluded?" Lily suggested.

Penelope shook her head, "No, it's not like her. I swear, if she doesn't show herself tomorrow, I'm getting into that bloody Slytherin dungeon and smacking some good old sense into her".

Lily didn't really know how to reply to that so she just sat there awkwardly, playing with the spoon in her hand.

"Anyway, if you hear something from her, would you tell me please?" Penelope asked, eyes pleading.

"Yes. Yes, of course."

Penny smiled gratefully at the two girls, "Thanks for your help, really," she said, "See you in class."

The Hufflepuff left to join her own table, leaving Lily even more alarmed than she had been mere minutes ago. It was in that almost catatonic state of constant worry that Marlene found her best friend as she'd decided to grace Lily and Mary with her presence. Sirius trailed behind her like a lost puppy, aimless and sorry-looking without his little pack.

"What did we miss?" Marly wondered, already putting food onto her plate.

"Maybe I should talk to Severus?" Lily asked no one in particular, but such a combination of words was met with nothing but fury.

"Like hell you should!" Marlene barked, forgetting all about the plate full of food in front of her, "You are not talking to the slimy git, Lils, no way".

Lily looked irritated at the name-calling, "You don't even know what I'm talking about, Marls. And don't let Sirius put words into your mouth".

"Excuse me?" Marlene bristled. Sirius chose to stay far away from this conversation and ate his food in silence.

"' _Slimy git_ ' sounds awfully like something _he_ would say. The other day, you called Professor McGonagall…" Lily looked around to make sure there were no other witnesses and lowered her voice "… _Minnie_ and took a NEWT class in Muggle Studies, though you don't even know how a TV works".

Marlene opened her mouth to counter but found she had nothing to say.

"Whatever," she huffed, "the fact remains still–you're not talking to him."

"What would you want to anyway?" Sirius asked.

Mary took a sip of her gillyweed water, "It's Greengrass's friend Penelope," she explained, "She approached us to ask if we'd seen Easton."

Lily couldn't help but notice that Sirius's brows suddenly furrowed and the way he leaned forward a little, so clearly concerned.

"Have you?"

"No," she replied, a bit harsher than intended, "I thought I'd ask Severus, seeing as he's a Slytherin prefect and might know something we don't."

Sirius nodded slowly, taking in the information, "Right."

"How's Remus doing by the way?" Mary inquired. Sirius tensed visibly at the question but relaxed after she added, "Peter said he'd caught some nasty flu again."

"He's…he's fine now, thanks. We'll be up and about in a few days."

Easton had to change her reading pose yet again because of the cramp in her leg. She lied on her stomach and cupped her face to have the best view of the book on Alchemy in front of her. It was the last one on the reading list supplied by Lily Evans for Easton's ' _better understanding of Potions_ '. Surprisingly, it was actually quite a decent read.

"We're coming down for dinner," announced Felicity Higgs, "Coming with, Greengrass?"

"No, thanks," Easton droned and flipped the page.

"Again? You're staying in _again_?"

"Uh-huh," she didn't even raise her eyes to see how vexed Felicity was.

Easton had great imagination though, so that was satisfying enough.

"Suit yourself," and the door was shut.

 _Perfection._

Once she was sure everyone had gone to dinner, Easton put the book away and rose from her bed. Her head felt terribly heavy and she was half-tempted to lie down again but made herself stand up instead.

She had to pull herself together. At some point she would have to face everyone, and how would she do that if she couldn't even leave her own room?

It had been almost two weeks. Two bloody weeks.

How funny was it, thought Easton, that the world doesn't actually stop when your life seems to. Things continue to happen, McGonagall still assigns the longest essays, Sirius Black still laughs at his friends' jokes, James Potter still chases after Lily Evans, and yet…Easton's life is somehow frozen, unmoving in its lack of aim, meaning. Can you call it a life anymore, really?

It's rather an existence, if anything.

She put the book on her night stand and went out to have a little walk around the Common Room–the four walls of the dorm room started to make her a bit queasy if not doubt her own sanity.

"I've been waiting for you."

"Fuck!" Easton jumped, scared to death.

Regulus was sitting in his apparently favorite armchair near the lit fireplace that kept the cold dungeons relatively warm. The shadows of the dancing flames made him look older and more intimidating than he actually was, and Easton thought that in the given setting Regulus Black looked like an Italian mobster waiting for his next kill in their house.

 _Fabulous_.

"Would you stop fucking doing that, Black?"

"Maybe it is you who should be more aware of your surroundings."

Easton narrowed her eyes at him indignantly.

"How long have you been sitting here?"

"Irrelevant," Regulus dismissed.

"No, but really. How long? I mean, what would you have done if I'd stayed in the room? Wait," she suddenly had an epiphany, "Is this like a daily thing?"

"You skip classes," he pointed out.

"And how would you know that, ickle sixth year?"

Regulus pointedly ignored her attempt at an insult and gave a curt reply, "Severus told me."

"Snape?" Easton scrunched her nose in disgust, "what doest he care? And why…why would he come to _you_ with it, of all people?"

Regulus hesitated with an answer, "I might have told him of our recent acquaintance."

Easton laughed at the rather peculiar choice of words.

"Severus asked me to tell you that your pathetic slacking reflects quite poorly on our House and that you had better get a grip or else he will be forced to report to Professor Slughorn, which he has not yet done merely out of respect for my request to restrain from doing so."

"You asked him to cover for me?" Easton couldn't hide her shock.

"Bare it mind that I do not do charity, Greengrass," Regulus replied, "so I _will_ expect something in return."

"I didn't ask you to do this for me."

"You didn't have to. If it hadn't been for me, Slughorn would've owled your father, and we both know how that would have ended."

Easton was confused. So, so, so confused, she couldn't tell what's real anymore. She used to have everything figured out, she used to have _people_ figured out, but only now was she realizing how completely wrong she had been in her conclusions.

Who was Regulus Black?

An heir to the Ancient and most Noble House? A loyal son? An abandoned brother? A Death Eater? A scared sixteen year old boy?

Who was _she_?

A disappointment? A traitor? A coward?

Easton couldn't say she liked any of those names.

"Thank you," she finally said, her voice small in the deserted Common Room, "can I sit with you for a while?"

Regulus just looked at her, his face unreadable. He gave a little nod, and Easton sat down in the armchair beside him.

No words.

Just sounds of sound breathing and of fire, crackling in the fireplace behind them.

 _A Death Easter and a coward._


	15. Stupefck

**A/N:** Yaaay another chapter, that was actually pretty quick. Yes, I'm praising myself. I'm _that_ desperate.

Hope you'll enjoy it!

Easton Greengrass wasn't a very sociable person. And much like all unsociable people who had next to no human contact for quite a prolonged period of time, Easton Greengrass thought she would die right in front of the door that led to the Potions classroom.

 _At least Penelope won't be there_ , she tried to calm herself. It was rather unsuccessful.

The room felt incredibly stuffy. Or maybe it was her crazy fast heart beat and the fact that she could feel a thin layer of sweat appear on her forehead-Easton felt like she was going to faint.

 _Oh, great, they're all looking at me._

They weren't really. Not everyone, at least.

In her search for a free spot Easton met the eyes of none other than Severus Snape, who only sneered at her indignantly and went back to scribbling something in his book.

"Oh, Miss Greengrass! You join us at last, how very wonderful!" exclaimed Professor Slughorn in his ever so cheerful manner, having noticed the poor girl awkwardly standing in the middle of the classroom.

"Good morning, Professor."

"I trust you are feeling better? Mister Snape here informed me you had come down with quite a nasty case of flue, you poor dear."

She could practically feel Snape rolling his eyes at this.

"Oh, yes. L-loads better, Professor," Easton stammered.

"Marvelous, marvelous! Now, do take a seat and we shall begin."

Just as she was about to take a spare cauldron, she heard someone calling her name. Repeatedly.

"Easton!" Lily Evans was waving enthusiastically at her from one of the tables, and Easton just froze, deciding what to do. She didn't really have many options: she could either run back to her dorms ( _which she preferred, just to be clear_ ) or stay here and be undoubtedly subjected to the interrogation by the Head Girl herself.

Unfortunately, the escape plan was doomed from the very beginning, and so Easton made her way to join Evans, looking like a selfless martyr excepting her inevitable fait.

"Hey," Easton smiled weakly and took a seat next to Lily. She began taking her things out of the bag and put them on the table, all under her stare. There was definitely something the Gryffindor wanted to say.

"You changed your hair," it was more of a statement than a question.

"Yeah. Guess read wasn't really my color," Easton smiled tightly, concentrated on lining her quills in perfect order.

Lily kept on probing.

"I had no idea you were sick," she said, sounding awfully skeptical.

"Extremely sick," Easton spared her a quick glance, eyes round with exaggeration, "Might've been Dragon Pox. I could've, like, died or something. But it's ok now, Healers say I'll make it. At least till the end of this year. The future is still rather…unclear," she shrugged nonchalantly as if saying " _those damn Healers, right_?" and opened the Potions book on a random page just to make it seem like she was actually super busy with something.

Naturally, Lily Evans didn't believe a word of this nonsense but having a closer look at Easton, she couldn't help but notice the dark circles under her eyes and the way her face became paler and somewhat edgier, and decided not to press further.

"Well, I'm glad you're feeling better," Lily smiled and looked at the book Easton was still flipping through, "We're doing the Shrienking Solution by the way," she informed, "It's page 233".

"Thank you," Easton replied, flushed.

A silence set between them. But it wasn't for long.

"So…how was your Christmas?"

Easton felt the urge to laugh hysterically.

" _It was a blast! Let's see…I found out that my sixteen year old sister is getting married, my father is a Death Eater, my cousin is a Death Eater, everyone is a fucking Death Eater!. And my fiancée is one too! Oh, by the way, I'm getting married! What about you?_ ".

However, Easton really doubted that would bring her any social kudos, so she just forced out a smile and said, "Splendid. Got…a new watch. It's in my room though, didn't want to drop it into a cauldron or something." God, she was a shitty lier, "What about you?"

Lily didn't seem fazed by Easton's strange reply. Or she was really good at hiding her confusion.

"Oh, it was certainly _something_. We had to spend it with the family of my sister's _fiancée_ ," the last word sounded like a swear word coming from Lily, which made Easton think she wasn't the biggest fan of her sister's future husband. One thing they had in common.

"You have a sister?"

"Yes, I can't believe it hasn't come up," Lily opened her book too, preparing for the class to start, "Her name's Petunia, she's two years older."

"Is she?…"

"No, she's not a witch. She's as normal as they come. Too normal, I'd say. So normal, oftentimes it seems there's something wrong with her," Lily laughed it off but Easton could tell that was a sore subject for her.

"Alright, alright, everyone take your seats now," Slughorn came to the center of the classroom which meant that the lesson was about to begin, "Today we are finally going to brew the Polyjuice Potion, but before getting to the practical part, can someone revise the ingredients for the class? How about you, Miss Greengrass? You must've read up on it in your absence, I'm sure," Slughorn looked to her with a warm smile.

Easton knew he only meant well but she really wanted to kill the jolly Professor in that very moment. However, something clicked in her brain and she suddenly remembered that she'd actually read about the potion in one of the books assigned by Lily.

"Em, that would be…lacewing flies, knotgrass, leeches, valerian springs, fluxweed and a tad of shredded boomslang skin. Oh and, most importantly, a bit of the person one wishes to turn into," she named and saw Lily's green eyes widen in shock.

Slughorn was more subtle in his surprise, "Very, very good indeed, Miss Greengrass! Seven points to Slytherin! And now let's take…"

"I may have read some of the stuff on your list," Easton informed Lily casually.

The girl looked positively ecstatic, her smile wide and bright. "I couldn't be prouder," Lily said, "Now let's look at your brewing improvements."

Easton snorted, "Baby steps, Evans."

" _An animagus is a person who chooses to turn into an animal. It is a skill like no other, which only very few wizards are capable of acquiring. One does not elect the animal one wishes to turn into, for an animagus is closely linked to one's personality..._ "

Easton wondered what animal she would turn into had she bothered to become an animagus. She would have loved to be able to turn into a dog, come to think of it, as she had always wanted to have one but her parents were strictly against it. A sort of bird would have been nice as well.

In her little peaceful seclusion Easton found she actually liked studying when it wasn't for the purpose of passing a class. She would spend hours reading the books on Lily's list and sometimes, but extremely rarely, for it was quite dangerous, practiced some of the spells. She felt she had to know more, do better, _be stronger_.

She simply...had to.

"Easton?"

Easton concentrated all her attention on the book, ignoring the whaling of the… wind, was it?

"Would you stop reading this...Transfiguration?" Penelope almost laughed, "Since when are you studying?" she towered over Easton, who was snuggled comfortably between the aisles in the library.

Easton successfully ignored the question and flipped the page. She had no idea what the previous one said, for she hadn't read it, being too busy with pretending that she was doing just that.

"Alright, I deserve it," Penelope admitted with a sigh as she plumped on the floor next to her best friend, "So, care to tell me where you've been? And don't start with the whole Dragon Pox bullshit."

Easton stopped "reading".

"Yes, Lily Evans told me about that. Apparently, she wasn't much convinced either. Have no idea why, really," Penelope wondered sarcastically.

"I don't have to explain myself to either of you," Easton droned, eyes still fixed on the book.

"No. No, you don't. But I see that something's wrong, and your sudden fit of depression–"

"Oh, come off it, Penny!" Easton yelled but then remembered they were in the library and lowered her voice, "I wasn't depressed. I'm _not_ depressed, alright?" she bristled, "Just...just leave me alone."

The Hufflepuff stood her ground like the stubborn idiot that she was.

"Not gonna happen."

"Fine," Easton shut the book with a thud and stood up, " _I'll_ leave–"

"For Merlin's sake Easton, I said I was sorry!"

She gave Penelope a pointed look, "You didn't actually."

Penny exhaled loudly, almost groaning, "I'm sorry. Here! Happy now?"

Easton thought for a second, "No," she decided and proceeded to the exit. Penelope hurried after her.

"Bloody wait!"

"Miss Abbott!"

"Sorry, Madam Pince," Penny didn't look sorry at all as she ran through the library doors, furious, "Hey! Greengrass, stop this very instant or so help me God, I will show everyone the photo I took of you last summer!"

Easton stopped in her tracks, "You wouldn't dare," she growled, eyes narrowed as she was testing out the theory of killing someone with a glare. Wasn't working so far, unfortunately.

"Take a chance and check, then," Penelope smiled sweetly, batting her eyes like a petulant child who knew perfectly well she'd got what she wanted.

Easton made a childish grimace at her and crossed her arms, "Well? I stopped. What next?"

Suddenly Penelope didn't look so cheeky or petulant anymore. Her eyes fell to the floor, as if she was unable to look directly at Easton.

"I'm really sorry, okay?" she said faintly, "For being such a shitty friend and abandoning you when you needed me–" she sighed, "I'm just…I don't want to lose our friendship, Tony," her voice cracked and when Penelope finally looked up, Easton could see tears welled up in her eyes.

"I'm sorry I haven't been answering your letters," she blurted to Penny's surprise.

"N-no," the Hufflepuff interrupted, "You have nothing to apologize for–"

"It's just…" and that did it. Having had not a single person to pour her heart out to, all the anger, all the anguish and fear were pent up deep inside of her, trapped in the little box that Easton chose to keep sealed behind a thick brick wall. But being near Penelope, she felt the wall give tiny cracks that rapidly grew with each look, word and apology, and soon the barrier was no more.

And so Easton cried. She was shuddering in sobs, having an actual nervous breakdown in the middle of the bloody corridor and could do absolutely nothing to stop it.

"Hey, hey…" Penelope was right next to her friend in an instant.

"I'm sorry," Easton sobbed, "I-I j-just remembered t-that the Beatles have b-broken up."

"Oh, Tony," Penelope was close to bursting into tears herself.

Easton wanted to tell her everything. _Every single thing_ that had happened but found that she couldn't. Not because she was bound by an oath but because by doing so, she would've put Penelope in danger. She couldn't get her involved in that horrible mess. And she wouldn't.

"God I'm so stupid," Easton laughed in a very self-deprecating way, wiping the tears away with the back of her hand. She didn't exactly look composed, what with the puffy eyes and a red nose, but at least she stopped crying.

"What happened?" Penelope asked, genuinely concerned. She had never seen Easton like this before, and it was truly alarming.

"Nothing in particular. It was…everything. Just too much of it, you know?" Easton looked completely run down. So tired she didn't care anymore.

Penelope didn't say anything; she just sighed helplessly and wrapped an arm around her best friend, holding her close. She always knew Easton's family situation was…complicated, to say the least, but this year she could feel that something was different.

"How about we go and have some lunch?" She suggested, trying to come off cheerful.

"I don't know–"

"Come on, surely a pumpkin pie or two will make things better!"

Easton snorted, "Oh, if that's the case, then by all means. Lead the way, Abbott."

The two girls walked into the Great Hall in silence. Penelope held Easton's hand and squeezed it in support when they entered the grand room, knowing that she was probably terribly nervous. The hall was buzzing with chatter and laughter, and Easton found she had never felt so small in her entire life.

Penelope was dragging the poor girl in the direction of the Hufflepuff table when suddenly there was a voice calling after her:

"Hey, Easton, feeling better?" Felicity snickered.

Penelope turned around, smiled sweetly and flipped the Slytherin a middle finger before tagging Easton along again. She didn't put up a fight.

Unfortunately, that wasn't over.

"Can you blame her? With so much filth around, who wouldn't catch something nasty?" the snobby voice belonged to Evan.

They decidedly ignored him too. However, Easton could feel Penelope getting angrier with each passing second.

"Speaking of filth, how's that mudblood boyfriend of yours doing, Abbott?" That was it.

Penelope stopped abruptly and snapped her head to face him, "Say it again, Rosier", she challenged.

Evan smiled smugly, looking entitled as ever surrounded by his merry gang who were all cackling in anticipation of what was going to happen, "Which part?"

"Penny…" Easton warned but Penelope was too far gone at this point. She ignored her friend and stepped closer to the Slytherin table, wand in her right hand. She smiled, "You must be so proud of yourself, aren't you, Rosier?"

Evan's smirk widened as his friends laughed.

"So desperate for your father's attention," His face hardened, " _That's_ what it is, isn't it? I wasn't really sure, but you're so predictable after all, so I probably shouldn't be surprised at your daddy issues," she went on, reveling in her triumph, "Your cliched comments, all the name calling is nothing more than an act, just as pathetic as your bigoted arse."

The Hall fell silent.

Evan appeared calm, dangerously so, and Easton knew all too well that it could only mean trouble. Standing by her best friend's side, she caught Regulus's eyes across the table. She wasn't surprised to see him impassive, if only a little intrigued.

And then, to the befuddlement of the audience, Evan…laughed. In earnest, loudly, like he had just heard the best joke in his entire life, "Ah, terrific, truly. Thank you, that was…something, for sure. Quite amusing, if not hilarious, might I say."

"Penny, we should leave," Easton whispered but that only drew Evan's attention to her instead.

"Dear cousin, I trust you've shared the grand news with your friends?"

The ground fell under her feet. Was she still standing? Or was she floating? This couldn't be happening. Couldn't…

"No? Oh, well, I will have the honor then, if you'll allow me".

"Evan, stop," Easton implored, but her begging only made him more excited.

She could feel Penelope's puzzlement, as the Hufflepuff tried to figure out what Evan was talking about.

"Don't be shy now, Tinny," Rosier rose from his place and raised his glass of pumpkin juice, "Such wonderful news calls for a celebration-"

"I said _stop_ , Evan," Easton repeated louder, her hand reaching for the wand.

"Stop me then," Evan challenged.

"I don't want to fight you."

He laughed, "How very noble of you, Tinny. Come on then, stop me. No? Alright".

Easton pointed the wand at him, hands shaking. Evan didn't bat and eye at this action.

"Where was I? Oh, yes, the news," ever the orator, her addressed everyone who was present in the Great Hall, "Our family has been blessed with not one but two-"

" _Stupefy!_ " Easton yelled.

Evan didn't fall unconscious. However, something exploded right into his _stunned_ face and made it swell up. It was quite a nice turn of events too, come to think of it.

Felicity screamed for help, Penelope laughed, Easton stood in pure shock, wand clutched in her hand.

"Oh dear Salazar! What are you looking at, you idiots? Quick! Take him to the Hospital Wing!" screeched Felicity. Crabbe and Avery took the swelled up Evan and hurried him out of the Great Hall, Felicity following them like a morning widow, "Out of the way!" she barked at the passing Sirius Black.

"What the bloody hell-" His eyes fell on Easton, who was standing near the Slytherin table, completely shaken, with a want in her hand, "-happened here?"

Sirius felt absolutely sensational as he sauntered through the corridors with a satisfied smile on his face. Yes, he had indeed skipped Potions and Transfiguration, but for an exceptionally noble cause, mind you, which was a good night's sleep after yet another one of his trips around the castle in the middle of the night with James. He was sure Minnie would understand and wouldn't think much of his absence. She had got used to it over the years after all.

He had left James sleeping (even though he had told Sirius to wake him up) and was now merrily strolling down to the Great Hall to get some food into his system, whistling a catchy song when a bunch of Slytherins ran past him, dragging another Slytherin with them. Now, Sirius loved to see Slytherins hurt and in a state of utter distress but usually it was _him_ who was the cause. Now, however, he could take no credit.

"What the bloody hell-, " he saw Easton standing near the Slytherin table, shaking, "-happened here?"

Their eyes briefly met, and Sirius opened his mouth to say something but she quickly ran off in panic. Helpless and frankly quite puzzled, Sirius looked to the Gryffindor table, "What the fuck happened?", he asked but no one said anything.

"Sirius-" Marlene spoke up but it was too late because Sirius was already heading towards the exit to chase after Easton.

"Easton!" He called but she wouldn't stop.

She ran and ran until she was out in the cold air, running down the stairs that led to the boat house. Easton didn't give a damn that it was freezing-she was feeling too hot, as if her blood was boiling under her skin, setting in on fire. Breathless, she plumped down on the stony stairs.

"Easton! Merlin, you're faster than-hey," Sirius noticed something was wrong. "Shit, Greengrass. Here." Easton felt a warm cloak on her shoulders but didn't falter. She hugged her knees and just sat there looking wistfully into the distance.

"What happened in there?"

She said nothing.

"No shit, really?" Sirius continued conversationally, "That's wild! How was it then?"

Easton sent him a puzzled side-glance, "Stop being funny," she murmured and returned to her sulking.

Sirius whistled, "I'll try my best. No promises though, it presents a great challenge," Easton burned him with a pointed glare, "Fine, I'm done. Now, will you tell me why the hell was Felicity Higgs crying over Rosier as if he were dying?".

"He wasn't," Easton said darkly and then added, "Unfortunately"

Silence set in. Any other time she would've been panicking about it but she couldn't care less now.

"Evan was just being Evan," Easton spoke up after some time, "I'd had enough and tried to stun him but something went sort of wrong and…he got hurt. It wasn't my intention," she felt like she had to say it, "Though I feel…glad that it happened? I don't know. Does that make me a bad person?"

The question wasn't directed at Sirius and it just hung in the air between them, until he spoke again, "In third year I tried a tickling charm on Peter when he was asleep and almost sliced his thumb off."

Easton instantly snapped her head to him, shocked and disgusted, "What?"

"Yeah. Because of that, we now have a pranking taboo."

"Which is?"

" _You shan't play any nasty tricks on the sleeping_ " Sirius cited with dramatic solemness. Easton smiled faintly and fixed her gaze at the wide forest before them, "Sounds fair".

She seemed different. Older? Wiser? No, none of those things, Sirius concluded, stealing a look at her. The only thing that had changed was the sudden lack of the childish quirkiness and awkwardness, the indistinct mumbling and…the hair. It changed, he noticed, and was now a mousy color with the little flecks of red.

"Hey" Sirius found himself saying, "We have History together next, right?"

Easton furrowed her eyebrows, "Yes, why-"

Sirius smiled that mischievous smile of his and jumped to his feet.

"Fancy a little adventure?" He asked, reaching out a hand.

 **A/N:** Poor ickle Evan (evil laughter)

Anyone's excited for the next chapter? I wonder what's on Sirius's wicked mind...


	16. In Sirius we trust

**A/N: Hey guys! I'm so so so sorry for my absence. The final year at the university is one nasty bugger, and I can barely find any time for writing:( But I'm back with another chapter! Yay!**

 **I have more in store (something exciting to come after that cliffhanger...) but it has to be edited so I'm going to post it tomorrow!**

 **Let me know what you think about this chapter:)**

 **Love, Mary**

Easton Greengrass liked horror movies.

No, correction, she _loved_ horror movies, especially the "on-the-edge feeling" of unpredictability and the sweet thrill of a good scare. However, as much as she enjoyed seeing all of it on screen, she couldn't say she was as eager to actually live through the whole "silly girl in love having not a clue she is going to be slaughtered in a matter of minutes in a dark forest" scenario.

That is to say, she had no idea where Sirius was taking her.

"Not that I particularly mind skipping History of Magic," Easton's shaky voice resonated through the small passageway, "but where are we going?"

She could practically feel dust stuffing her nostrils and suppressed an itching urge to sneeze. Ladies did not sneeze in the presence of Sirius Black. They usually just died, graced with his attention.

"A place," came his distant reply from somewhere much ahead of Easton because she slacked behind like a snail, jumping away from every spider web that came her way.

There were a lot of those.

"Well," Easton grunted out as she passed beneath a wooden tile, "That's rather...vague."

"Patience, Greengrass, you'll see soon enough."

"That's...just as vague," she pointed out while doing her best not to stumble on one of the many ginormous tree branches scattered on the moldy ground. The stuffed room that reeked of dust and despair was making Easton increasingly dizzy until suddenly, she felt a stream of fresh cold air linger on her face.

 _He didn't..._

"He did," she mumbled instead, gazing at the wide open exit from the moldy tunnels to the...

"Did you have your permit signed, Miss Greengrass?" Sirius asked in mock solemnness, mimicking Madam McGonagall (exceptionally well at that), "Oh, come on, Greengrass, don't look so frightened, it is but me, dear old Sirius," he continued his nonchalant charade, "Did you not recognize me? Merlin, I'm good."

At that she finally let out a little laugh, a smile finding its way on her sullen face.

"So, Greengrass, would you fancy a little trip to Hogsmeade?" Sirius asked with a cocky smirk and held out a hand. He looked like the epitome of everything angelic, standing right there, in the blazing daylight, while she still lingered in the unrelenting embrace of the darkness, looking up at him, hesitant.

Oh, if it wasn't poetic.

"You're crazy, Black," Easton shook her head in humored confusion, an involuntary smile tagging on her lips as she made her way out of the "cave". She did not touch his hand, however, for she was positive it would cause her premature death. What a nice way to go that would've been, though.

"So I've been told," Sirius replied self-importantly, trailing behind Easton, who had suddenly quickened her pace.

"Should I even ask how you knew about this passage?"

"I could tell you, but I'm afraid I'd have to kill you after," he finally caught up with her, looking an awful lot like a proud puppy that had brought the stick back to the owner. His hair was an artful mess, high cheekbones red from the winter cold, lips stretched in an ever-present smile.

"Chances are you won't have to," Easton could now see the blurry silhouettes of the village in the distance, "Once Snape learns that I snuck out, he'll gladly do it for you."

There was a brief silence, and Easton threw a look at Sirius to see if everything was alright. It wasn't.

"Does he _bother_ you?" his words were heavy with the transparent implication, brows furrowed in something that was either confusion or growing anger.

"No, no," Easton hurried to assure him, "Snape is a wimp, well, I don't have to tell you that. The slob is too scared to cause someone actual physical pain. Though he does compensate for it with the shiny prefect badge and that big nose of his that he's sticking in everybody's business."

Sirius cracked a smile, his face instantly devoid of tension. However, there was still a shadow of worry clouding his grey eyes.

How could steel feel so positively warm and welcoming?

"Where are we going anyway?" Easton decided to take a detour from the dark path of depressing conversations they were undoubtedly heading down.

"We could get some candy and just, I dunno, hang out?" He shrugged, "We'll figure it out. Come on, let's go raid the Honeydukes."

Easton's eyes widened at the suggestion.

"But we'll get–"

"–caught?" Sirius finished with a mischievous smirk and took something out of his duffel cross-body bag that looked as if it had been tossed around one too many times.

It was a...cloak?

"Not with this, we won't."

Not to be overly dramatic but Easton would follow Sirius anywhere, be that to the Grimmauld Place for the afternoon tea with Walburga or the Black Sabbath concert, however, when she saw a part of him literally disappear under the cloak, her confidence faltered a little. But just a little.

"Okay," was all she could manage to say.

And raid the Honeydukes they did, in the full meaning of the word. Save for the stealing part, because after stuffing their pockets with candy, Sirius left a couple of knuckles on the counter, startling the poor and utterly puzzled cashier.

They ran out of the shop and into the snowy street, laughing like crazy. Easton could feel her heart beat heavily in her chest from the dazzling adrenaline, her head a tad dizzy.

"Merlin," she breathed and left the comfort of the cloak, becoming visible once again, "It was wicked!"

Now that they were away from the main street of Hogsmeade and nearing the shabby Hog's Head, Sirius rid of the cloak as well and put it back into his bag.

"Now follow me," he instructed.

Easton didn't dare question him. Perhaps it was unwise of her to be so blinded by the idea of being in Hogsmeade with Sirius Black–something she had been dreaming about for much longer than she would care to admit. Perhaps. But also...wisdom was never her best trait if she had any at all.

If she were to have any though, rest assured that wisdom wouldn't be on top of that decidedly short list.

With that thought, Easton followed Sirius Black into the dingy Hog's Head tavern. The fire crackled softly in the fireplace, spreading warmth across the small place. It instantly engulfed Easton like a soft blanket after a freezing cold of the outside.

She looked around in yet another fit of paranoia.

"Won't we get..."

"Caught? Come on, Greengrass, have some faith in me, will you? 'Afternoon, Mister Dumbledore!," Sirius saluted the old man behind the bar stand, who grumbled something in reply and went on cleaning the glasses.

Easton's eyes widened, "Dumbledore?" she whisper-yelled, throwing curious glasses at the mysterious crabby old wizard.

"One weirder than the other, I'm telling you," Sirius slid into a sit at the free table. One of many, "Hey, Mister Dumbledore, can we get two Butterbeers?"

"No," came the curt reply.

Easton was absolutely befuddled, sitting in the wooden hut, with only a questionable figure drinking his sorrows in the corner, her Headmaster's relative and Sirius Black for company. Strange as it may be, the latter made the littlest sense to her.

"So," Sirius trailed, his hands folded on the sticky-looking wooden table. The ready-for-a-story pose, Easton decided.

She pulled at the sleeves of her cardigan in the nervous habit.

"So," she echoed.

"Normally, I would repeat it again to keep up the weirdly catchy pattern of pointless conversation, but we are here to discuss something of great importance."

"We are?"

Sirius nodded, a solemn expression on his handsome face, "We are indeed."

"In-n...Indeed?"

Two pints of Butterbeer suddenly appeared in front of them. Easton started. Sirius took a sip out of his cup without blinking an eye.

"You come here often?" She felt like she was watching a wild animal in its natural habitat.

"Whenever I can. But today's not about me."

"It's not?"

Sirius shook his head.

"No. Today is about you, Easton," his answer wasn't pretentiously gleeful anymore, nor was he. His eyes bore that heart-warming softness, shining a million shades of grey, and they were looking at her, listening to her, seeing her.

It overwhelmed Easton, to be so completely taken in. She wasn't sure how she felt about it but it was certainly not a bad feeling.

"I honestly don't know what you want me to say, Sirius," her fingers traced bazaar patterns on the table.

"I don't _want_ you to say anything, Greengrass. I just _want_ you to have a good time for once in your life. That is if you _want_ to, of course, " he added the last bit with a tight smile.

Easton threw him a glare.

"Maybe that is precisely your problem."

"Excuse me?"

"You're so used to people asking things from you, you forgot what it's like to actually want something for yourself," he said simply. For some reason, it made Easton angry.

"I _do_ want plenty of things, not that it's any of your bloody business," her words sounded more like a mumbling of a petulant infant.

"Really?" Sirius leaned in a little, his brows raised in anticipation, "like what?"

 _Like punching you in your smug, well-structured and breathtakingly handsome face right at this particular moment._

"Not telling you," Easton replied lamely and cupped the pint of Butterbeer in front of her, "Don't want to jinx it."

Sirius laughed, "Superstitious, are we? Alright, keep your secrets, Greengrass."

And she would keep them, thank you very much. Absolutely not because she wasn't completely certain there was anything to keep in the first place. She had a lot of things she dreamed about while falling asleep or listening to a particularly sad song on her occasional trips to Muggle London. There was something about riding a bus and looking out if its rain-stained windows that made you awfully nostalgic. About what your life had been, was or would be.

None of those rides, however, had prepared Easton for the chain of events that would send her life crashing down like a set of dominos. Make them fall one atop the other. Until there was not one standing.

"Easton?"

She made an effort to tear her unblinking eyes away from the blank space behind Sirius that she had been apparently staring at for some time now.

"Why did you bring me here?" Easton found herself saying and quickly added after realizing how rude she had probably sounded, "not that I don't appreciate the gesture, I really do. And by "really" I mean _really_ because, see, my last Hogsmeade visit fell unfortunate victim to the infection called love that my friend Penelope's caught quite recently. Apparently, one of its most appalling symptoms are dates at Madam Paddifoot's that make for successful foreplay, it would seem. Well, I don't have to tell _you_ that," Easton snorted, "you've probably invented the whole thing."

Sirius was positively amused by her babbling, "What, dating?" he looked deep in thought for a few seconds, turning the idea over in his mind, "I reckon you're right. I shall add it to the long least of my exceptional achievements. Pity I can't send it to dear Mother to have Kreacher put on the fridge next to Regulus's paintings of dismembered animals."

Easton laughed imagining Walburga Black with a muggle refrigerator in the kitchens. "The only achievement _my_ mother would deem worthy of her attention is my marriage. Preferably to someone who's at least my second cousin. You know, " she leaned in and whispered, "to make sure they were properly "bred". Like bloody cattle," she took a generous sip of the Butterbeer, then another, and soon found that she couldn't stop.

"He-e-y, easy there, Greengrass," Sirius chuckled watching her down the whole pint, "Getting a Slytherin drunk, that I wouldn't be able to explain."

Easton narrowed her eyes at him, "I'm quite capable of getting drunk _myself_ , thanks. Hey, could I get another pint?" she all but yelled trying to catch the old bar keeper's attention, "Or better yet, do you have anything stronger? Say, Firewhiskey?" she rose from her place and addressed the decidedly empty pub, "Firewhiskey for everyone! It's on me!"

Barely stifling his laughter, Sirius tug Easton on the arm, and she landed back on her chair.

"Are you crazy?" he asked, eyes glistening with mirth.

"Must be all the inbreeding finally coming through," Easton took a sip from her magically refilled pint, leaving a snowy mustache on her upper lip, "Oh bugger," she muttered and raised her arm to wipe it off with the sleeve, when Sirius reached forward, a napkin in his hand.

"Here, let me."

Easton wasn't particularly sure she'd given her consent. Not that she was in any condition to do so. For the general record's sake, however, it should be said that if Easton had been able to move any part of her body at that moment, she would definitely not have put up a fight.

Sirius' face was so close she could see little specks of black in his silver eyes, rimmed with thick black eyelashes, one of which was peacefully lying on his left cheek. Easton decided to concentrate on that, for any form of eye contact could prove lethal at that moment.

"Thanks," she managed to breathe out when Sirius returned to his spot, "You have an eyelash on your cheek. Guess which one and make a wish."

Sirius smiled at her, confusion and intrigue molding in his eyes, "And?"

"And If you guess correctly, your wish will come true."

"What kind of sorcery is that?" he gasped dramatically.

"Muggle one, it's called "superstition."

"Back to superstitions, Greengrass? Alright," Sirius sighed and tried to channel all his concentration, eyes shut, "I reckon...hm...Yeah, no—wait. No, it does feel a little ticklish..." abruptly, Sirius opened his eyes, a victorious smile tagging on his lips, "It's on the left side, isn't it?"

Easton graced him with a solemn look worthy of Merlin himself, "Collect your wish, young wizard."

"So you're saying that Snivellus is bold now? I can't believe how easy it was. Frankly, I am offended. All the attempts to hex him and it only took an eyelash and a bit of luck."

Easton snorted, "This is the extent of your deepest desires, Black? You know you could've just taken me on my prank offering? Not to brag, but I happen to possess unlimited access to the "snake pit", is that what you call it?"

Sirius regarded her with a smile that was mysterious and unsettling in many ways Easton would rather not think about (ignore?).

"I just might, Greengrass," he took a sip of the Butterbeer. While he was just finishing his, Easton was already on pint number 3, was it?, "So tell me. Being so brutally judgmental of other people's deepest desires, you ought to have one of your own, and a sensational one at that. What is it?"

Easton was about to tell him all about it, she could feel her cheeks getting warm with excitement and eyes lighting up with just a thought of her darkest and deepest desire. But as she looked at Sirius, her fickle bravery faltered and she could feel it deflate like an air balloon. Would he understand? Surely, he wouldn't. Sirius Black loved everything about being a wizard. He had a place in this world, he had a family. One he had created himself, but a family nonetheless.

"I..." her mouth opened and closed, unable to form the words she had been thinking for the last seven years. But the way Sirius was looking at her, with an interest no one apart from Penelope and Marcus had ever shown her, made something swirl in her chest, "I need Firewhiskey."

If bravery was something one possessed naturally, courage, thankfully, could be easily bought. Or consumed in as many gulps as it would take to feel it.


	17. Snake style

Easton may have failed to properly stun Evan Rosier with a spell, but in Sirius's case her words did a marvelous job at it—he was completely frozen in place. Except he didn't look stunned. His smile was way too mischievous for that.

"Follow me," he said after some time, and without waiting for Easton to stand up, grabbed the confused Slytherin by the hand and tagged her along.

"You're not gonna tell me where we're going, are you?" she sighed, having already accepted her fate. Or it might have been the three (four?) pints of Butterbeer she'd had that made it easier for her to mindlessly comply with anything Sirius said. She'd have done it sober too though, come to think of it. "Are you gonna kill me?" she asked in a very casual way, following Sirius out of the village and towards a snowy hill atop which sat a raggedy looking cabin, "If you are, can you do it the muggle way? As a parting gift for my mother."

Sirius turned to give her an amused look, "You're loony, Greengrass," he laughed and continued walking towards the hill.

"Yeah, I know," Easton mumbled to herself.

Sirius's hand felt so warm against hers, it was almost comforting. Why wasn't she freaking out? It was an honest "freak-out-situation", the one Easton had been preparing for for the past five years, and she was absolutely calm. Was she seriously that drunk? Nope, she was hardly buzzed. Did her freakout alarm suddenly break? Nope, it was quite intact—it only took one thought about Rabastan Lestrange to make her heart tighten painfully in her chest. Oh, there it was—the familiar feeling of dread. She had missed it dearly.

By the time Easton had started properly wallowing in her sorrows, they made it to the shack, and Sirius led her towards another entrance in the back. The whole construction looked quite dangerous as if a smallest ripple of wind would send it crumbling down. Oh, well, thought Easton as she waited for Sirius to finally open the door—the task he was currently struggling with.

"Oh for fuck's sake, Remus..." he muttered under his breath.

"Need any help?"

"N-no, just a moment," Sirius sent her a bashful smile and took his wand out of the pocket of his robes. The door creaked open after a simple non-verbal spell.

Easton took a careful peek inside and then looked at Sirius, brow raised in a silent question.

"What are you waiting for? A house elf to welcome you in?" he quipped.

Easton felt her cheeks flush. Sirius opened the door a little wider.

"Get inside, princess."

The endearment sent a cold shiver down her spine. "D-don't call me that," she whispered with half-hearted annoyance and stepped inside. Sirius raised an elegant brow at her request but said nothing. He was somewhat used to her quirks at that point.

"Come on, let's go up to the lounge," Sirius drawled the last word with an exaggerated pompousness fit for her mother.

Easton was thankful for the warming charm that had been clearly cast on the inside of the shabby cabin. It was quite cozy inside if she was honest. The lounge appeared to be a decidedly small room on the second floor of the wondrous construction. It was quite dusty but strangely inviting, with a small fireplace, a dingy antique sofa that was half alive and a small, sorry-looking wooden cabinet.

It was peculiar, Easton thought, that this place felt more like home than the Greengrass Manor.

"What even is this place?"

Sirius walked over to the cabinet and opened one of the drawers. It almost fell out completely, "A sanctuary of sorts. Meant for all those who are haunted by their demons," he took out a bottle of Firewhisky, his face a biblical picture of euphoria and devotion, "Here you are, my darling."

"How very poetic of you, Black. Who would've known?"

"Why I'm quite vocal about my sensitivity," Sirius plumped down on the sofa. Easton was horrified to see clouds of dust shoot out of it. She sat next to him, careful not to cause the same explosion.

"You're getting soft. Must be why Slytherin is kicking your arses at Quidditch," she smiled coyly knowing perfectly well what would follow after such an atrocious remark.

"You know what, being a much bigger person, I'll pardon you the offensive ignorance, Greengrass," Sirius sighed in indignation.

Easton quirked an eyebrow. She actually felt disappointed by his mature reaction; she was quite excited to see him flip. Instead of throwing a fit, however, Sirius opened the bottle of whisky with a dull pop and handed it to her, "Alright, you get the honors. I'm feeling generous today."

Easton smirked and tilted her head back to gulp down the fiery liquid. It burnt like she imagined Fiendfyre would but it was a nice kind of flame that made you feel somewhat warm and fuzzy on the inside.

"Wow, okay why don't we slow down, Greengrass, yeah?" Sirius took the bottle away from the Slytherin and took a generous swig himself, "You know what we should do? We should play a game."

Easton blinked at the glorious Gryffindor, her eyes a little glazed and hooded, "A game?" she asked skeptically and took hold of the bottle once again to take another sip, "what kind of game?"

"We ask each other questions. You either reply truthfully or not at all, in which case you drink," Sirius took a great deal of pride in this idea, which his boisterous smile made little effort to conceal. He also made sure to demonstrate the very act of alcohol consumption as if it were the most challenging part of the game.

"So a shitty version of Truth or Dare, then?" Easton wondered in a bored voice.

Sirius narrowed his eyes, "Yes," he replied begrudgingly.

"Okay, I go first," her dark blue eyes glistened mischievously in the dim room. The only light to come through was from the heavily boarded windows of the shack.

Oh, what a carte blanche that was, as per the Muggle saying. Sirius Orion Black delivered on a silver platter—the deepest secrets and desires included, all for the taking. Easton could feel the invigorating prickle of excitement as she gave Sirius a mysterious smile.

"What shall I ask you, Sirius Black?"

"Anything your heart desires but the secret of my perfect mane. James has been trying to get it out of me for the past four years and I am determined to take this secret to the grave."

"Well, that's a bloody shame. Guess I have to come up with another question now, do I?" Easton sighed sarcastically, a smile still evident on her freckled face.

"Come on, Greengrass, quit stalling. We've got beans to spill and a bottle of Firewhisky to finish."

"Fine, fine, here it goes," the situation could only be more triumphant if there was a literal drumroll, "Did you really shag Caroline Macmillan in fifth year?"

Easton had been dying to find out ever since she'd made that bet with Penelope. They were having a peaceful breakfast in the Great Hall when suddenly Caroline, then a sixth year Slytherin, came up to the Gryffindor table for a quick chat with Sirius. Now, for any normal person, and Easton and Penelope could in no way be related to these completely fascinating folk, this happening would not mean a thing. However, to the two girls who had no business of their own, that quick chat blossomed into a Shakespearean tragedy with a little spin. One where Juliet was a promiscuous hussy with a taste for younger men.

Easton, of course, was doubtless that Sirius had better taste than that, despite Caroline having many...attributes that most girls were, unfortunately, lacking. And she was not talking about self-worth. Macmillan definitely didn't possess an ounce of that. Penelope, on the other hand, only snorted at the scene and instantly proclaimed that they had "Definitely shagged. Snake style. No offense, Tony". Easton didn't even want to start imagining what a snake style shagging looked like nor did she take any offense for there was not any kind of shagging going on in her life.

"So?" she urged impatiently, "Yes or no?"

Sirius furrowed his brows as if mentally going through the list of the girls he'd slept with. He has such a good memory, a love-struck voice sang drunkenly in her head.

"Macmillan? The redhead?"

Easton snorted, "Is that how you sort them, color coordination? Evans taught you or what?"

Sirius actually laughed at that, "No, James gave me grief about it. Apparently, all redheads are off limits as per the Marauder's code of honor."

"Marauders — is that some kind of secret society?"

Sirius looked a bit alarmed for a second but the smile on Easton's face and the absence of any kind of suspicion did well to wipe away any worry.

"Yeah, you could say that. And yes, I did sleep with her."

"Snake style?" Easton blurted.

Sirius stared at her for a moment, unblinking. She stared back with a surprising casualness. And then he burst out laughing, "What in Merlin's name is that? I knew you Slytherins were perverted fuckers but that's...wow, that's...care to elaborate?"

"Oh, I'm not very well-versed in the carnal perversions of my housemates. I'm still coming to grips with the whole insanity and prejudice thing," she explained merrily, no indication of concern on her face.

"The name of Slytherin suddenly acquired a different shade of meaning," Sirius snickered, "Okay, my turn now. Prepared to tell me your darkest secret?"

"Or I could just drink, which is what I would've preferred to this weird game. But sure, go on," she smirked in a sickeningly sweet manner. Sirius noticed a small pair of dimples appear on her cheeks — it rather suited her elfish features.

"Right so..." he could barely bite back his smile, "You really love ABBA, huh?"

Easton's cheeks instantly fired up, "Oh sod off, Black!" she whined.

Sirius let out a bark of laughter, "Come on, you've just go to confess."

"It was one song, alright?"

Sirius shrugged, "One song is all it takes."

"Penelope made me!"

He tsked, "Just like you Slytherins to put the blame on others."

"Fuck you, Black."

"How very muggle of you."

"Thanks," her lips stretched into an involuntary smile and so did Sirius's. They both laughed, "I do sometimes enjoy ABBA, alright?" Easton declared with a tone that left no room for any further discussion.

"Good enough for me," Sirius replied in an exasperatingly cocky manner.

"What's the deal with you and McKinnon?" Easton was rather unceremonious with her next question. She was happy to see that it startled the black-haired wizard.

"There's no deal. We're friends."

Easton quirked her brow, perfectly skeptical about that answer, "Penelope never throws me romantic picnics by the lake," she said as-a-matter-of-factly.

"Well, Penelope's a shitty friend, then. And — and were you spying on me?"

 _Shit_

"Yeah like I have nothing better to do than run around the castle sniffing you out," she huffed, her stance suddenly defensive. It was nice to be honest once in a while, "Come on, I told you the truth. It's only fair."

Sirius's internal struggle was proof enough that whatever was going on between him and Marlene was one hell of a complicated deal. He ran a hand through his hair and let out a loud martyred sigh.

"I slept with her the night of my Birthday party, back in November. We...we had been pissed, and I was honestly pretty surprised that she remembered, but she did and got all sentimental about it. Look, I've always thought Marlene was fit, yeah?" He looked at Easton as if expecting some validation but, having received only an unimpressed stare, simply went on, "But she's not a bimbo, not by a long shot. So I felt really bad about the whole thing and...decided to just go on with it," he winced, "I mean, it was nice, I'll admit it but after some time I started to feel like a complete jerk because...I could tell that it was pretty real for her, and I...Well, I was just there for the ride, you know? Don't give me that look, Greengrass."

"What look?" Easton snapped, "You mean the look of utter disgust and disappointment?"

"I was trying to be nice!"

"Oh, shove the nice up your bonny arse, Black. You are just being a coward, admit it."

Sirius opened his mouth to object but something stopped him, "But I did have good intentions," he conceded.

"Our intentions are always good until they're not," Easton murmured with a sudden solemness.

"I do care for her."

"Then you should tell her how you feel. Otherwise, your words mean nothing," Easton took a swig out of the bottle oblivious to the look Sirius was giving her.

He was befuddled by the girl. Absolutely befuddled. He simply couldn't figure her out, however hard he tried. Sometimes Sirius looked at her and saw the reflection of himself —his other self, someone he could have become. Should have become. It was as if she embodied the life he had abandoned, embodied everyone he had left behind when he closed that door.

And yet she was something else entirely. A breath of fresh air in the stuffy magical world, a walking oxymoron with a pureblood name and a Steven King novel in her hands.

"Why do you think you were sorted into Slytherin?" there was no humor in his sudden question. Just sincere curiosity.

Easton seemed unfazed by it.

"Can I drink and then answer?"

Sirius passed her the bottle and watched as she took a long swig before putting it down.

"I've been asking myself the same question every day for the past seven years, Sirius," she said, looking down at her lap, "Funny thing is that at first, the Hat wanted to put me in Hufflepuff. I was so excited about it but at the same time...the thought of being in that House, disappointing my parents...suddenly I was terrified. I guess the Hat felt it and decided not to subject me to this turmoil, so it threw me to the snake pit instead. The irony," Easton let out a bitter, self-deprecating laugh that made Sirius flinch. It reminded him of something, of someone who had long abandoned his thoughts. " _You know nothing about me, Sirius_ " his brother's voice echoed in his head.

"I am a coward and a coward I shall remain," she smiled so tightly, it almost hurt her face, "Back to you, Black. Favorite band?"

Easton was pathetically desperate to escape the trap of her hated topic, but the distant look in Sirius's eyes indicated that there was no turning back. Didn't mean she couldn't try.

"Alright, that _way_ too personal. Favorite sex position? I know it's not _à la Slytherin_ , we've already established that. What will it be then?" her fake enthusiasm was beginning to falter as Sirius's face grew darker.

"You're not a coward, Easton."

Easton could feel her face muscles give up, smile melting into a thin, unwavering line. And suddenly her thoughts went to the Christmas holidays, Rabastan Lestrange's coal-black eyes and her father's ruthless voice. The helplessness she felt. How numb it made her to all the pain to come.

"I hate them," she whispered, "So. Much."

"Who?"

Easton raised her eyes and looked at him with such ferocity, Sirius could feel the burning anger coming off her next words:

" _Them._ "

He didn't need more explaining. Everyone knew of the war that was raging behind the walls of the castle, inside the walls of the castle. The Wizarding world was split into "us" and "them", the light and the dark, and there was no place for the grey. No place for doubts.

"I hate them too," he confessed looking into her weary eyes.

Sirius could tell she hadn't had any rest in a long while.

"Does it make me a terrible person? Hating someone so much?"

"The fact that you're asking this question should be answer enough, Easton."

"But..." she sighed in exasperation as if failing to grasp for the trail of the many thought swirling in her head, "But I'm contradicting myself because...because, Sirius, the world is not black and white. No, It's...it's wild, it's unexplainable, it's a bloody Big Bang of all sorts of terrors and joys but between those lies sadness and grief and so many things we never...never think about," she shook her head and looked at Sirius, her cheeks pink, "There's such a wide spectrum of colors; black and white, they're just...just polar edges, nothing but a clear canvas for us to paint upon. It's not "us" and "them", it's not "black" and "white" and it's not "good people" and "Death Eaters"."

It always felt strange to say it. As if the mere name possessed the power of darkness evil enough to burn the tongue of any who dared to say it out loud.

"I refuse to live in the world where I'm considered one of them just...because. Because I'm not _good_ enough."

"Easton-"

"Because I'm not _evil_ enough," she laughed, unfazed by Sirius's futile attempts to interrupt her.

"I hardly think not being evil enough is something-"

"Because _I'm not enough_. Never enough."

"That's what your family told you, isn't it?"

Easton huffed, "My family is..."

"I know what your family is, Easton. I lived in your family, I saw what your family does, I packed my things and I ran as fast as I could from your family," his voice was terrifyingly leveled, his posture calm, eyes a stormy sky.

"Guess what they say about problems is true then," Easton mused distractedly, "You really can outrun them. Shame I'm not much for sports," Easton pursed her lips as if she really wished she were, "You should thank Potter for all the laps he made you do at practice."

"I should thank James for a lot of things," Sirius replied.

"Yes, I've heard that the Potters have taken you in. They're good people," he looked at Easton quizzically, wondering if she was acquainted with them, "Anyone my Mother loathes deserves my deepest respect," she explained, earning a genuine smile from Sirius.

"They truly are great people," he agreed with a sigh.

"Sirius," Easton called after a couple of minutes of peaceful silence.

"Yes?"

"I'm not a Death Eater."

Sirius shook his head and laughed quietly at her drunken bluntness, "I know, Easton."

"Nor do I have any aspiration to become a Death Eater."

"I would really appreciate it if you stopped saying-"

"But if I ever do become a Death Eater," the resolve in her eyes made him shut his mouth, "I want you to kill me."

They stared at each other in silence for quite some time before Sirius casually broke the intense eye contact to take a sip of the forgotten Firewhisky.

"A bit dramatic, don't you think?" he passed the bottle to Easton.

She took a swig and shrugged lazily, "I dunno. I heard something like that in a muggle movie. Sounded cool."

 **A/N: Aaaand she's back. It's so weird to be posting two days in a row, wow, what a feeling.**

 **How did you like the chapter, guys? A bit intense, huh? I just love Easton so much, which is why it pains me terribly to tell you that things are only gonna get uglier for her...yup, and that's the tea.**

 **Anyways guys, please leave your comments! Your opinion truly means a lot to me 3**

 **Love, Mary**


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